


There is a Season (turn, turn, turn)

by Teeelsie



Series: Turn 'Verse [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, My own fic fix-it (heh), auction fic, s6e25 fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teeelsie/pseuds/Teeelsie
Summary: Part two of the "Turn 'Verse" in which I endeavor to simultaneously fix 6x25 and one of my own fics, as well.





	1. a time to rend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Markinmi1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markinmi1/gifts).



> Only a year and change late with a fix-it for 6x25 - lol! 
> 
> I never really intended to write this fix-it. I actually ran it around in my head a lot LAST May, but I was so demoralized by the finale that I sort of... lost my muse for this fandom : ( But then in January, I offered a fic for auction to the highest bidder of a donation to a human rights' organization and markinmi1 won the auction. We exchanged emails and the first thing they suggested was my take on post-6x25. We kicked around other ideas as well, but in the end, it felt like something I wanted to do - or maybe something I needed to do because not resolving it felt like I'd left something undone (I'm totally neurotic in my compulsion to finish things). 
> 
> In the course of thinking about the fic I also decided that rather than just fix 6x25, I'd also go back and fix my own fic, "Turn and Face the Strange (ch-ch-changes)", too. That fic was a coda to 6x11, where Steve and Danny go on the couples'-counseling retreat. I left that fic at a really kind of sad place, and at the time, I commented that maybe some day I'd go back and fix them, so this was a good opportunity to do a double fix. : ) If you haven't read that fic, I guess I recommend that you do. It's not too long - only about 2k - but the start of this might be kind of confusing if you haven't read that one. Chapter one of this fic more or less follows the arc of episodes 12-25, so there will be a lot of allusions back to that part of the season.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to markinmi1 for making a very generous donation to The Trevor Project, which is a 24-hour toll-free confidential suicide hotline for gay and questioning youth. In return, I promised a fic of at least 5k, but since I've never been very good at self-restraint, this fic is looking like it's going to top off closer to 30k or more, lol! And thanks, also, for the inspiration and for being so patient in waiting 4 months for this fic. I hope it is what you were hoping for!
> 
> Thanks, as always, to KippyVee for being my awesome beta!
> 
> Title taken from the song "Turn! Turn! Turn!" by the Byrds.
> 
> (BTW – I got into a little bit of trouble with AO3 for that auction post. Apparently, if I’d read the rules of AO3 - ever - I would have seen that that sort of post is not allowed as it is ephemeral and not really a fan-work - oops! They flagged my account with a warning, so, I guess the moral of that story is, don’t try this at home, kids! Live and learn…)

 

Steve stares at the ocean, not able to bring himself to turn and watch Danny as he leaves. He can’t. The idea of Danny leaving – of leaving 5-0, of leaving _him_ – is too painful. He doesn't understand how it came to this. Danny’s been his friend – his best friend – for six years. His rock. Yes, his sometimes crabby, belligerent, sarcastic rock, but his rock, nonetheless. A rock that he loves. Steve racks his brain and tries to figure out how things got to this point, but he can’t pinpoint any one thing. But that’s what Danny had said, wasn’t it? It was a couple years of lots of things. Still, he can’t quite put the pieces together. They’ve always been a little rough with each other, sure, but Steve had no idea that Danny had become so unhappy. He couldn’t really blame himself though, since it was hard to tell with that guy when he was happy or not happy. How the hell was Steve supposed to know?

 

He’s not sure how long he continues to sit there alone. A long time. And he is alone; he _feels_ alone. There’s a gaping hole in his chest that hasn’t been there for six years and Steve has no idea what to do about it. Danny’s gone. Danny’s _gone_. What the hell is he going to do?

 

**

 

Walking away from Steve is one of the hardest things Danny has ever done – not least of the reasons being Steve’s massive abandonment issues, with Danny now being only the most recent in a long line people to walk away from him.  But there's also that other pesky reason that Danny tries to ignore – the complicated one where he loves Steve on so many different levels that it is hard to parse sometimes. The one where not being with him, not seeing him every day, makes Danny ache. But he knows it’s the right thing to do if they're going to be able to save whatever there might be left between them.

 

So, Danny walks away and he doesn’t look back.

 

**

 

It’s like the phantom ache of a missing limb for Steve not to have Danny around anymore.  Chin, Kono, Lou, they’re good friends, but they don’t push him the way Danny did. Don’t push his buttons the way Danny does either, but maybe you can’t have one without the other. Not a single day goes by that he doesn’t pick up his phone a dozen time to text him or call him, and he has to force himself to stop. If Danny needs space – if that’s what it will take to repair things between them – then Steve will give him space.

 

**

 

Danny isn’t sure how things will go between him and Steve after he tells Steve he is leaving 5-0. At first, there’s nothing – no contact. Danny supposes that he’s not too surprised - both of them still need to nurse their wounds and let things settle a bit, so even though he had told Steve that this wasn’t the end of their friendship, he doesn’t reach out right away.

 

After their conversation, Danny leaves 5-0 immediately, not wanting to hang around for the traditional, but what would no doubt be a highly uncomfortable, two weeks. But HPD is still a bureaucracy and there’s a lot of paperwork to push through, so he doesn’t start there right away either. That’s fine with Danny; he’s got a list of home-improvement projects a mile long, so he spends the time puttering around the house, doing all those odd jobs he never seems to have time to do. The projects are all busy work for his hands, leaving his mind idle to think too much.

 

He stares into the guest room, trying to decide if he wants to tackle the project. Steve had offered to help him turn it into a real bedroom for Charlie - something a little boy would like, like dinosaurs or race cars. They’re only just easing into longer visits for Charlie now that he seems to be getting healthier and he’s a little less confused about who Danno is to him. He considers it for a few minutes, then decides to wait. Maybe in a couple months, if he and Steve can reach some sort of equilibrium again, they can do it together.

 

Instead, he sets his sights on Grace’s room. She’s has been wanting her room painted for ages – done with girly colors and wanting to move to more adult, neutral tones. Danny’s heart clenches a little as the paint roller erases his daughter’s childhood and ushers in her adolescence. He sighs sadly at the thought that it’s a season of change for all of them. But, no. It’s a time for all of them to turn a new page, and Danny tries to put aside any regrets he has and look to future.

 

This time around, he’d been in a better position to negotiate with HPD, so when Danny pretty much demanded that he come back into HPD as a Lieutenant given his vast experience and staggering success working major cases at 5-0, they gave him the rank without any push-back whatsoever. Danny had blinked in surprise and wondered what the hell took him so long to ask. He feels a pang of resentment toward Steve for never promoting him, but all his emotions about Steve are confused and battling each other, so he just puts it away and tries not to think about all that extra pay he could have been getting that might have helped him get Grace out of those shitty apartments of his sooner. But the transition back to HPD goes smooth - smoother than he expected; he knows a lot of the cops and they seem to have a greater respect for him than they did when he worked there six years ago. He’s not sure if it’s because of the work he’s done at 5-0 or his new, higher rank, but either way, it feels good.  

 

**

 

Danny’s taking a break from painting, drinking a cup of coffee and skimming the sports page when his phone rings.

 

“Danny, it’s your mother,” Clara tells him when he answers the phone.

 

“I know it’s you, Ma. It say that on the screen when you call, remember?”

 

“I know, honey. It’s just what you say when you call someone.”

 

Danny sighs. “What’s up, Ma? Everything okay?”

 

“Everything’s fine. I wanted to tell you that I’m coming to visit you!” she says, sounding full of enthusiasm.

 

“Why are you coming to visit?” Danny ask, feeling suspicious in return.

 

“A mother can’t just visit her son when she wants?” Danny can _hear_ the pout in her voice.

 

“Well, yes, they can, but last time you came you settled in and then told me you were leaving Pop.” Danny tenses. “Everything alright with you two?”

 

“Everything’s fine,” she insists, then pauses. “Okay, look. If I come out there and go to an informational session, I can get a free cruise. Your dad has a firefighters reunion at the end of the month, so I thought I’d visit you while he did that.”

 

“You know those things are never really free, right?”

 

“I read all the fine print, Sweetie. It’s just a couple-hour session and then you get the cruise.”

 

Danny rolls his eyes. He knows it’s never that simple. “Sure, Ma. Whatever you say.”

 

“And I’ll just need you to come with me…”

 

Danny groans and bangs his head down onto the table.

 

**

 

Clara arrives with her usual flair a couple of week later, and even though she’s sticking to her story that she’s there for a free cruise, Danny knows that she’s worried about him. That she’s concerned about his sudden departure from 5-0 and wants to check up on him and make sure he’s okay. She drags him along with her and makes him sit through the informational session, which is torture because they’re forced to sit for hours to listen to a sales pitch. But Danny just tunes out and instead he spends the time ruminating on his situation.

 

Despite his mom’s worries, he comes to the conclusion that he’s okay. Yes, he misses 5-0 and the team, but he thinks the separation is good for them. Absence does apparently seem to be making the heart grow fonder because for the first time in a long, long time, he finds he actually misses _Steve_ and wishes he could see him. But he forces himself to leave it for a little longer, because, also for the first time in a long time, his life seems to have achieved a sort of normality. It hasn’t taken him long at HPD to remember that can have more regular hours and every day in policework doesn’t have to be consumed with drama and crisis and tension. He’s home for dinner with his kids, he’s not finding himself in fear for his life on a daily basis, and he’s not having to watch Steve do unimaginably stupid things that are likely to get him killed. It’s nice, and if his life feels a little… sedate, or hollow, the trade-off isn’t bad.

 

But then suddenly the shit hits the fan again when the FBI comes knocking at his door and any thoughts of waiting to reach out to Steve get shoved quickly aside.

 

Danny knows he needs to tell Steve – and the rest of the team. It’s clear that the FBI thinks that the team is divided and now they can conquer, but Danny is sure as hell going to prove them wrong on that point. He braces himself and calls the familiar number, and hears Steve’s surprise laced with wariness when he answers.   Danny gets right to the point and explains the situation and, Steve being Steve, he immediately offers help and then metaphorically slaps him as well.

 

“Wait a minute, what could the FBI possibly want with your mother? I thought she was just here so you could help her get some cruise tickets or something.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. How do you know that?”

 

“She texted me.”

 

“My mother texted you?”

 

“Yeah, she texts me a lot,” Steve tells him matter-of-factly.

 

“Why the hell…” Danny starts, but Steve interrupts.

 

“So, you don’t know what they want with her?”

 

“I have no idea. Why do you think I’m calling you?”

 

“Did you ask her?”

 

“Of course I asked her. What kind of stupid question is that?” Danny can feel his hackles rise. Maybe things aren’t as smooth as Danny thought.

 

“Whoa! Why you getting mad at _me_?” Maybe not for Steve, either.

 

“’Cause I don’t have time for the obvious, okay. I have to drop my mom at the Feds in 20 minutes and I have no idea why.”

 

“Stop. You want me to come down there, I’ll come down there. Alright?”

 

“No, that’s… very nice of you, but you got your hands full,” Danny doesn’t actually know what 5-0 is working on at the moment, but he can tell Steve is at work so it must be something.

 

“Hey you know what, you could use those cruise tickets and flee the island, huh?”

 

“That’s very funny, Steve.” Seriously, did Steve think that was funny? “I actually would do that except that I didn’t get the cruise tickets.   Alright listen, I gotta go – before my mom ends up on America’s Most Wanted.”

“Okay listen, if you need me I’m here, alright?”

 

“Thank you very much.” Danny hangs up and stares at his phone. Something inside of Danny twists a little and it feels like relief and sadness, frustration and nostalgia, all at the same time. That conversation was everything that’s right and wrong between the two of them; Steve reaching out and offering to drop everything to come and help Danny, and then making the crack about fleeing the island. At his core, Danny knows that Steve didn’t really mean that – that he wasn’t thinking about Matty when he said it – but that was the first place that Danny’s mind went at the comment. And that’s the sum of the problem, isn’t it? Steve doesn’t think through what he says and Danny takes it too personally. Danny is self-aware enough to admit that part of the equation is Danny saying snarky shit to Steve and Steve putting up all his defenses, but that doesn’t stop his anger from simmering on the back burner for a while.

 

Apparently, Steve’s brain must have finally caught up with his mouth, because a few hours later, Danny gets a text:   _< Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean that the way it came out>_

Then: _ <I’ll dig around, see what I can find out>_

 

Danny leaves it - doesn’t respond - though he can admit to himself that it’s a relief, being reassured that Steve is on his side. Not that he ever really doubted that.

 

The meeting with the FBI goes worse than Danny could have imagined. He’s stunned to learn that Matty had set up an account in Clara’s name and that she hadn’t told him about it. But he’s more troubled about the fact that their real goal seems to be to get Danny in the room and ask him questions about 5-0. They really do seem to think that Danny’s departure from 5-0 means that he no longer feels a sense of loyalty to his friends. They are very badly mistaken about that.

 

Danny puts him mom on a plane back to New Jersey as soon as he possible can, telling her not to talk to the FBI or anyone else about any of it without talking to Danny first and without an attorney present. He also fills Steve in on the interview once it’s over, but then Danny keeps his distance. He knows Steve will let him know as soon as he finds anything else, and besides, he’s got plenty to occupy him at HPD. Outside of work, Grace and Charlie are keeping him busy, too. Grace seems more attitude than anything these days and Danny has to tap all of his stores of patience not to lose his cool with her sometimes.  

 

In the meantime, he hears that Steve and the rest of the team get sidetracked defending Sang Min (Danny still has trouble wrapping his head around how Sang Min has managed to be someone 5-0 _defends,_ now), so it’s two long weeks later before Steve texts Danny to ask him to come by the house that night. The rest of the team will be there, too, and they’re going to discuss the situation with the FBI. Danny feels a huge surge of relief – he’s been a ball of anxiety since the FBI had hauled them in for questioning, but he’d been reluctant to reach out to Steve any more than he already had. He felt a little bit like he’d made his bed by leaving 5-0 and now he has to lie in it, and he didn’t have any right to seek the comfort that his former teammates would have offered him. The two-week void had him starting to think that the rest of them are feeling the same way, so his relief at Steve’s text is huge.

 

But he’s been antsy all day thinking about the meeting and he finds himself driving over to Steve’s earlier than he needs to and arriving before any of the others. Steve looks surprised when he opens the door – he clearly hadn’t expected Danny to show up early – but his face quickly shutters. Danny stands awkwardly in the living room, feeling the tension and unsure of what he should do with himself now that he’s here alone with Steve. In his past life, he would have walked in and made himself at home, heading right to the kitchen to get himself a beer – or maybe in this case, a bottle of water; he needs to be clear-headed for this conversation.

 

“Have a seat,” Steve says, his voice seems carefully neutral.

 

He knows Steve expects him to take the big chair, where Danny usually likes to sit, but instead he just nods and situates himself in the corner of the couch. Being at Steve’s is so familiar and comfortable that Danny closes his eyes and relaxes for the first time in two weeks. It’s no big surprise that his insomnia – always lurking in the background - has been back full-throttle. He hears Steve hesitate and then go into the kitchen, and a minute later, he feels something nudge his hand. He opens his eyes to see Steve handing him a bottle of cold water, not terribly surprised that he is attuned to Danny’s thoughts.

 

“Thanks.” Danny is genuinely appreciative and he cracks the bottle open and guzzles down half of it in one go. He’s terrible about keeping himself hydrated and he can’t even guess at the number of times over the past six years that Steve has pushed a bottle into his hands – hundreds, probably.

 

Danny sighs and stares at the half-empty bottle, because that seems safer than looking at Steve, but he can feel Steve turn a probing stare his way.

 

“Hey,” Steve says softly, and Danny forces his glance toward his former partner. “How’re you doin’?” he asks hesitantly, clearly unsure of his footing. Things had been all business until a few moments ago, but this shifted into the personal and Steve is clearly nervous – not sure if Danny will brush him off.

 

“Well, besides the fact that I’ve got the FBI sniffing around looking to railroad my friends because of my brother and my actions in regard to him, and my mom could be going to federal prison for five years for aiding and abetting a fugitive…”

 

“She didn’t aid and abet, Danny. The worst she did was lie to them and they won’t send her to prison for that,” Steve says confidently.

 

“Yeah, maybe…” Danny mutters, rubbing a hand down his face. He can hear the telltale rumble of Chin’s car coming down the street. If he’s honest with himself, he’s more worried about his teammates – no _not_ teammates, not anymore – his _friends_ and how the trickle down from the shit-show that was his brother’s fuck-up could land all of them in prison because they had all crossed so many lines to help Danny.

 

“Hey,” Steve says again, gently, pulling Danny out of his distraction. “I’m asking how _you’re_ doing?”

 

Danny turns to look at Steve again and sees the genuine concern there. It makes him uncomfortable because this – whatever this is between them – has been so confusing and frustrating for so long that he genuinely does not know how to respond to Steve anymore. One minute the guy is being a complete ass, the next he’d looking at him like… this. Like there’s nothing in the world more important than Danny and making sure he’s okay. Danny’s not going to lie – every time Steve does this, something in his chest flutters a little. It hits him hard how much he misses Steve and he’s about to open his mouth to ask Steve if he wants to come by that weekend – maybe hang out with him and the kids - when the door opens and Chin and Abby enter, followed closely by Lou and Kono.

 

The moment is gone so he never answers Steve’s question or makes the invitation. Instead, he stands and he greets his friends before they all sit down to get to work. Danny keeps his mouth shut as the others bring Abby up to speed. He’s not sure if their failure to mention the $5 million that Chin got from Gabriel to give to Danny is for his sake or Chin’s, but no one mentions Matty or how Chin trying to help Danny save his brother landed Chin – and all of them - under the FBI’s scrutiny.

 

Steve had asked him once if he understood what he was asking of Chin. He thought he had, and he had warned Chin that him helping Danny could come back to haunt him in ways he couldn’t imagine. But Danny had been so desperate to save his brother, that he had taken Chin’s help, regardless. And Chin being Chin, the man hadn’t given it a second thought. But Danny should have. He never should have taken that money, knowing where it came from, but in the moment, he was willing to do anything, regardless of the potential ramifications to his team. Honestly, Danny wouldn’t blame them if they all turned their backs right now. Part of him thought maybe they should.

 

“So whaddawe do about this guy,” Danny finally manages to ask, his mouth dry and his heart thundering in his chest, guilt eating at him.

 

But before anyone can respond, Steve gets a call about a case and he and Lou are out the door. Chin and Kono follow close behind, leaving Danny and Abby in a slightly awkward silence. Danny gets up to clear away the few bottles of water, taking them to the recycle bin in the garage, then walks into the kitchen where Abby is tidying the countertop. She turns around when she hears him and gives him a wan smile.

 

“This is all pretty complicated, huh?”

 

“Yeah, about that… You got a few minutes?” Danny asks her.

 

There’s a beat of silence before she responds. “Sure. What’s up?”

 

Danny immediately heads to the refrigerator and pulls out two beers. He pops them open and sets them on the kitchen island as he sits, gesturing for her to do the same.

 

“Okaaaay. Thanks.” Abby says cocking her head, clearly confused and curious. “What’s going on, Danny?”

 

Danny takes a long pull from his bottle and sets it down, staring at it for a minute as he tries to figure out what to say.

 

“Danny?” Abby prompts.

 

He finally looks up at her. “Five years ago, my brother came to visit me,” he starts.

 

“That’s… nice,” Abby says, clearly perplexed. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

 

“I don’t. Anymore.”

 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

 

“Yeah, me, too,” he sighs. “Anyway, I thought he was just coming to visit. You know, to see me and Grace. We were close and he and Grace had a special thing.”

 

“But he wasn’t just here to see you,” Abby says perceptively.

 

“No. No, he was not. It turns out he was laundering money for a drug cartel. I had no idea, but when I found out, I tried to stop him from leaving the island. Tried to get him to turn himself in and go for a plea deal. But he wouldn’t. He was standing on the steps to a private jet with a fence between me and him and the only way I could have stopped him was to shoot him.” Danny takes another long drink of his beer. “I couldn’t do it.”

 

“Of course not…” Abby says sympathetically, but Danny is shaking his head as she says the words.

 

“I should have. If I’d shot him he’d still be alive and none of us would be in this mess now.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

Danny ignores her remark and plunges ahead. “Four years later, this scumbag Colombian drug dealer, Marco Reyes, shows up in my house one day. He knows my daughter is due home from school in a half hour. He fucking _knows_ what Grace’s schedule is!” Danny says, his voice tight and angry. “He tells me my brother stole 18 and a half million dollars from him. He tells me that I’m going to get it back for him.”

 

“Jesus,” Abby murmurs.

 

“I hadn’t seen or talked to my brother since he took off on that plane. As far as I knew, he took the money with him when he left.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I told him the truth. I had no idea what Matty did with the money, but he didn’t believe me. I took him in for breaking and entering, but we couldn’t really hold him. Once his lawyer got him out, he told me that Matty had told him that I knew where the money was, and that if I didn’t bring him his money, he’d kill my brother. Then he went back to Colombia, but not before making more veiled threats against Grace.”

 

“So, he had your brother?”

 

Danny nods. “He seemed so sure that I knew – said Matty told him I knew – so I thought about it for a while and eventually I was able to figure out where he had hidden it.”

 

“So you did know?”

 

“No, I didn’t know. When Matty left, I had no reason to think he hadn’t taken all the money with him, so I never gave it any thought. But Matty sent me a postcard after he left and once I thought about it for a while, I realized he must have been trying to tell me something. It was actually ridiculously easy to find it once I knew to even think to look. Unfortunately, there was only $13 million, not $18 and a half million like Reyes said Matty stole.”

 

“So he took $5 and a half million and hid the rest here?”

 

Danny nods. “Yeah.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I tried a local loan shark, but not surprisingly he was unwilling to extend a $5 and a half million dollar loan to a cop,” Danny smiles ruefully.

 

“Did you get the money some other way?”

 

Danny hesitates, because now comes the part that requires him to tell Abby how he’d made choices that had placed Chin’s life and future in jeopardy. “Chin offered to get me the money.”

 

“ _Chin?_ ” Abby answers in surprise. “Where would Chin get $5 and a half million dollars?”

 

Danny hesitates. “From his one-time brother-in-law, Gabriel.”

 

“Gabr-” Abby starts in surprise.

 

“Yeah. Gabriel had stolen a lot of money that HPD never found. Chin went to see him in Halawa, and they struck a deal. He was having some trouble with the other inmates, so Chin got him moved to isolation in exchange for $5 and a half million. Which he then gave to me.”

 

Abby doesn’t say anything, just looks at Danny with obvious surprise.

 

“So, Steve and I took all the money down to Colombia, but when I brought it to Reyes, my brother was already dead. Turns out he had been for weeks – before Reyes ever showed up in Hawaii.”

 

“I’m sorry, Danny,” Abby says softly, placing a gentle hand on Danny’s arm.

 

“Anyway. I should have brought the damn money back, but I wasn’t really thinking clearly right then and I just left it all on the doorstep of an orphanage.”

 

“What… what happened with Reyes? He just let you leave with the money?”

 

Danny’s eyes flicker uncomfortably away and then back to Abby. “No. That sonofabitch is dead,” Danny says, feeling no remorse, then takes another long draw off his beer.

 

Abby’s eyes widen just a fraction as realization sets in. “Oh…”

 

“Anyway, the point is, _that’s_ why the FBI is sniffing around.”

 

Abby scrutinizes him for a moment and Danny feels the weight of her gaze. “Why are you telling me this, Danny?”

 

Danny sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Look, you and Chin… you’ve got something good going. I just want you to know that this whole witch hunt is because of me, not Chin. Anything he did, he only did it to help me. He’s not corrupt. You should know that. He doesn’t deserve this. None of the team does.”

 

Abby cocks her head. “But you do?”

 

Danny stares at Abby. It’s the five-and-a-half million-dollar question he’s been asking himself for the last month. Hell, the last year. Danny gives her a sad smile and stands up, tossing his empty bottle into the trash. “I honestly don’t know what I deserve. The man killed my brother. He threatened my daughter. I did what I needed to do to protect the people I love.” Danny shrugs. “If I need to be punished for that, then so be it. But I just hope to hell I don’t take the rest of the team down with me.”

 

Abby seems to take that in and consider for a minute. “Thank you for telling me. It explains a lot.”

 

“Yeah, well. These guys are my friends and they were trying to protect me by leaving that part of the story out, but Chin deserves for you to know the whole story and not be left wondering if he’s a dirty cop.”

 

“I never believed that.”

 

“Good. Listen, I gotta go. I don’t like to leave Grace home alone all evening if I can help it.”

 

“Of course. And Danny?”

 

Danny turns back toward her.

 

“This will all work out.”

 

“I’m glad you believe that.”

 

**

 

Whatever case they’re working must be big because Danny doesn’t hear back from Steve that night or most of the following day. Late in the afternoon, though, he gets a call from Steve. He sounds decidedly stressed and asks if Danny can come by the Palace.

 

“Do you have news about the FBI?”

 

“No, it’s something else. Can you come?”

 

Danny can tell that something is off, but he hesitates, reluctant to go back to the Palace for some reason.

 

“Please,” Steve asks quietly, a plaintiveness in his voice that Danny has rarely heard.

 

“What’s going on?” Danny asks, concern rising.

 

“I can’t talk about in over an unsecure line. I’ll… tell you when you get here.”

 

Goddamn it. Concern about an unsecure line can only mean Doris. Something in Danny’s chest roars to life when he thinks about how that woman has torn Steve apart – _continues_ to tear Steve apart. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

 

But it’s not Doris this time. This time it’s Catherine and Danny’s starting to think that might be just as bad. Danny knows that despite telling Catherine that he couldn’t wait anymore, Steve still loves her and probably always will. It makes Danny’s heart hurt just to see the expression on Steve’s face, but it also makes his heart hurt in a way that he really doesn’t want to consider too closely. He doesn’t have much time to consider it anyway, because moments after Steve tells him about Cath, he’s dragging Danny to the rendition room to question his suspect.

 

It feels a little strange, being back in that room with Steve and a suspect cuffed to the chair. But it feels comfortable, too, in a way that he missed a little. Maybe a lot, so against his better judgment, he goes with it.

 

“Listen to me. Someone very important to me is at risk because of something you have done,” Steve says to the idiot in the chair.

 

Danny quirks his head toward Steve. He can’t put his finger on what’s wrong with the picture, but something about the way he had said that was off, lacking… passion? But before he can think about it anymore, his forehead is sweating and he’s feeling decidedly not-well. A second later he has to sit down because he knows if he doesn’t, he’s going to fall down, and that would feel considerably worse.

 

“Steve…”

 

“Danny… Danny,” he hears Steve call out to him.     

 

**

 

Danny wakes up with a screaming headache and Steve’s insistent voice. “Danny, you alright?”

 

“What the hell happened?”

 

“I don’t know, I’m thinkin’… I’m thinkin. It musta been fentanyl, the Russians used to use it. They musta put it into aerosol form and piped it through the vents.”

 

Danny rushes to get up and stumbles a little, still feeling off-kilter.

 

“Hey, take it easy. Take it easy,” Steve glances at his watch. “It’s been 40 minutes, they’re long gone.”

 

**

 

“You realize we are no longer partners, right? I don’t work for 5-0,” Danny points out as Steve careens down the street.

 

“I need you on this one,” Steve answers tightly, not taking his eyes off the road.

 

“You have an office full of other cops you could take with you,” Danny snaps, staring at Steve’s fierce profile. “In their cars. Or, I don’t know. Your _own_ car? What have you been doing since I left? Hitchhiking? How have you managed to get around to crime scenes without my Camaro?”

 

Steve doesn’t say anything – doesn’t even cast a glance over at Danny – his thousand yard stare fixed firmly in place. Danny just sighs loudly and tries to figure out where the hell they’re going.

 

**

 

When they get back in the car after Steve _fucking shoots a man in a hospital bed_ at King’s, Danny is livid. As soon as he gets into _his_ car, he lifts his phone to his ear. “I’m calling in HPD.”

 

“Go ahead,” Steve answers, his voice flat.

 

“You need back-up on this Steve, and I don’t technically work for you anymore,” Danny points out.

 

“I said go ahead!” Steve barks. “I’m not fighting you on this, Danny!

 

Danny stares for a couple seconds, then puts in the call to Duke.

 

**

 

When the shooting’s over, the good guys are all okay and Danny is with the rest of HPD, cleaning up the scene. He’s been keeping his distance from Steve as the rest of the case unfolded, furious and still seething, but when he turns and sees Steve standing by the water, Danny sighs and finds he can’t stop himself from walking over. As much as they’ve had their ups and downs, he knows that his friend is hurting and probably needs him right now, and it’s not really in Steve’s nature to reach out on his own.

 

“Hey,” Danny says as he approaches.

 

“Hey.”

 

He’s not really sure what to say. “Catherine’s safe,” Danny points out. That’s got to be some comfort to the man.

 

“Well, I mean she’s on a covert op in the Ukraine, I dunno how safe she is.” Steve sounds much better than Danny expected. He sounds resigned.

 

“Well, you can contact her, right?” Maybe if Steve could talk to her it would put his mind at ease.

 

“Nope, not while she’s in the field,” Steve answers, and finally turns to look at Danny. His tone is light, but Danny can read the anger simmering beneath.

 

“You, are you angry because she lied to you, or what?” Danny asks, trying to get a read on Steve’s headspace.

 

“Yeah… yeah, I’m angry. You know something, Danny, if I’m honest with myself, I also understand why she did it. Under the circumstances I probably would’ve done the same.”

 

I bet you would, Danny thinks. Hell, he _has_ done it – taking off to Japan, North Korea, Afghanistan - with hardly a word to anyone... but, nope, no, Danny needs to derail that line of thinking. This isn’t about Danny’s old hurts, it’s about Steve and how he’s hurting right now.  

 

“Yeah, see, ‘cause I’m thinkin’ that maybe she just didn’t want you worrying about her.”

 

“Little hard not to now.”

 

“I think that she’s gonna be fine,” Danny tries again. “She’s gonna be fine. She’s a very tough lady she can handle herself, everything’s gonna be okay.”

 

There’s a long pause and Danny’s not sure what Steve’s thinking. “Thanks, Danny,” he says finally.

 

They stand for a minute just staring at the water together, then Danny makes a decision. “Hey, so the kids are with me this weekend. You wanna come by, grill some burgers or something?” This would be the first time since their split that they would see each other on a purely social basis. It’s time, Danny thinks.

 

Steve turns and looks at Danny in that funny way he has that lets Danny know that Steve loves his kids. A smile softens his features and his voice comes out gentle. “Yeah, Danny. I’d like that. Thanks.”

 

There’s genuine gratitude in Steve’s voice, and guilt washes over Danny for waiting so long to do this. He sticks out his bottom lip and nods his head. “You’re welcome.” A minute later Danny turns and hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “So, I should go… I’m pretty sure my Captain is going to want to know what the hell I’ve been doing all day…”

 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just continues staring at the water.

 

“Okay, so 6:00 tomorrow?” Danny asks, squinting up at Steve.

 

Steve finally turns and looks at him with a small, but real smile. “Sounds good. 6:00. See you then.”

 

Steve shows up at 5:30 the next night but Danny doesn’t mind. He keeps Charlie distracted throwing a baseball around while Danny forms hamburger patties and gets the grill going. The little ice dam that had developed between them seems to break and Danny’s relieved and hopeful that maybe they really can make this friendship thing work between them again.

 

**

 

A couple weeks later, Danny’s out with his kids when his car is stolen.

 

“Why don’t you call Uncle Steve?” Grace asks, all innocent-like. Danny knows that she’s confused about this fracture between him and Steve. He hadn’t actually anticipated how upsetting it would be for her.

 

But there’s no way in hell Danny’s going to call Steve for all kinds of reasons, not least of which is that he doesn’t need to see Steve being all smug about this to add to the humiliation of the situation.

 

Unfortunately, when HPD gets on-scene after Danny somehow manages to actually shoot the two assholes with a bow and arrow and then gets shot in return, some genius decides Steve should be informed and the madman turns up at Kings where Danny’s getting a few stitches sewn into him.

 

“What are you doing here, Steve?” Danny asks wearily. He hates the expression he sees in Steve’s face because it bears more guilt that any one person should carry – especially when the man had nothing to do with what happened.

“Whaddya mean, what am I doing here? I get a call from some dispatcher at HPD telling me you’ve been shot. Where else am I gonna be?”

 

Danny’s stomach flutters but he ruthlessly ignores it, too fried and worried about his kids to even contemplate Steve’s words. “Why did they call you?” he asks, knowing it’s unkind but he does not need Steve McGarrett riding in on his fucking white horse to save him.

 

A flicker of hurt flashes across Steve’s face, and while Danny instantly regrets his words, he’s not very good at backtracking, which is, as previously established, part of their problem.

 

“It’s just a scratch. Besides, we’re not partners anymore,” he adds, because he’s pissed that this shit went down when he was with his kids and it put them in danger and he has a need to lash out in his anger, and unfortunately for Steve, he’s a convenient target.

 

Steve’s eyes flicker again and then his face smooths into his defiant SEAL mask. “No, we’re not.” Steve grits out through clenched teeth. “But I’m here now and you probably need a ride, so where do you need to go?” he adds, not backing down.

 

Danny glares at Steve for a few seconds and then completely caves and sighs. “Fine. Mamo took the kids down to the shrimp truck. Can you take me down there when I’m done here?”

 

“Sure. I’ll uh, I’ll wait outside. Come find me when you’re ready.” Steve’s words are clipped and he turns sharply and backtracks out the door.

 

Danny breathes a sigh of relief when Steve leaves. He doesn’t like to confront that look that his erstwhile partner gets on his face when anything threatens Danny or his kids - it makes him prickly and uncomfortable because it speaks to too many things unsaid between them.

 

**

 

They keep their distance for a while after that. Danny needs a little time for his feathers to unruffle after Steve swooped in to play the hero, and Steve seems to sense that he better back off a little.

 

Danny goes off to Las Vegas with Grace for a cheerleading competition and when he comes home, it’s to learn that Lou’s family had been attacked while he was gone. Danny is left reeling, his guilt at leaving 5-0 compounded by the fact that he hadn’t been there to help when his friend needed it. Danny is completely aware, a few days later, that it’s that guilt that stops him from protesting when HPD and 5-0 find themselves working together to recover a stolen military-grade ‘iron man’ suit, and Steve turns to him and says, “Danny, you’re with me.”

 

He knows it’s probably not the smartest thing to do, but knowing what’s the smart thing to do and actually doing it have always been two completely separate things in Danny’s life. And then when everything’s said and done, Danny somehow finds himself in possession of the damn suit.

 

Knowing that Jerry is salivating to get his hands on the suit to give it a once-over, Danny takes it to the Palace and hauls it up to the 5-0 offices. He’d expected the others to be there already but no one is, so, lacking anywhere better to put it, he takes it into his former office and lays it on his old desk. The office is still empty (Danny’s actually surprised that Steve hadn’t given it to Jerry) and he looks around the quiet bullpen before he works his way around the desk and sits down. Danny feels sadness ripple though him and he has to close his eyes to fight the intense hurt he suddenly feels in his chest. This was never what he wanted and it still tears at him that they got to this point. Not for the first time, Danny wonders if he’d done the right thing by leaving 5-0. Maybe…

 

But just as Danny starts to reconsider his departure from 5-0, Steve walks past his office and does a double-take and turns around. _Shit._ He had not meant for Steve to see him here like this.

 

He pushes through the door and Danny can immediately tell that Steve is thrown by seeing Danny sitting there. He points at the pieces of the metal suit on Danny’s desk. “Evidence. To be returned.”

 

Danny tries to cover his discomfort and so goes to his stand-by of attempted humor. “Here’s the thing. I was thinking we keep it. We say that it disappeared. Wouldn’t be the first time, right? Whaddaya think?”

 

“What are you gonna do with an $80 million piece of hardware?” Steve plays along.

 

“I’m gonna wear it.”

 

“You’re gonna wear it?”

 

“Yeaaaah.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Right? Cuz this thing is, you know, it’s completely McGarrett proof. It’s been designed for your partner to wear.” Danny realizes his mistake as the words leave his mouth and Steve’s face shutters. He’s not Steve’s partner anymore.

 

“Oooh, we’re doin’ that,” Steve retorts.

 

Danny keeps his mouth shut this time and just gives a small “Mmm” in reply. This is not going well. Danny should have left the damned suit at the crime scene and let someone else deal with. And he definitely shouldn’t have come into his old office and then opened his big mouth.

 

“Still with that? Six years. Since the day I met you, you been telling me I’ve been trying to kill you.” Steve’s clearly pissed and it’s raising Danny’s hackles as well so he fires back.

 

“What’s your point?” What the hell, Danny thinks, in for a penny, in for a pound.

 

“What’s my point? My point is it’s getting old. You’re very much alive. You’ve very much alive, which means I have your back. I’ve always had your back. So whaddaya you talking about? Now return this to Universal Exports before you break it,” Steve retorts and starts to walk away.

 

“Indestructible, you idiot,” Danny pushes back.

 

Steve snorts derisively. “Yeah, right. See you later, Detective,” he says from four steps down the hall.

 

Well, fuck you. “Hey! It’s lieutenant!” Danny yells after him. “Jackass…” Danny mutters, standing up from his desk.

 

Steve turns around and comes back, pushing through the door of his office again. “What?”

 

Danny stops next to his desk, standing straight and looking Steve in the eye. “I said it’s lieutenant,” Danny repeats. “I’m not Detective Williams, I’m _Lieutenant_ Williams.” Danny clarifies with an edge in his voice.

 

Steve eyes go wide and his mouth drops in surprise. “I didn’t… Um, since when?”

 

Danny snorts bitterly. “Since I went back to HPD.” How did Steve not know that?

 

Steve is looking gobsmacked, but collects himself after a few seconds. “That’s, uh, that’s great, Danny. Congratulations,” he stammers, clearly on uneven footing and not sure what to say.

 

Danny very suddenly fells like he needs to be anywhere but here. Steve can get the damn suit back to Universal Exports. He grabs his phone from the desk and makes to leave. “Thanks,” he says, possibly with a good amount of sarcasm and Steve grabs his arm as he’s passing.

 

“Hey, Danny. I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” but he stops.

 

Danny looks down at the arm impeding his departure then back up at Steve. “Didn’t think what, Steve? That I’d want a promotion? Or that a raise in pay might have maybe helped me afford a better place for Grace instead of living in those shitty apartments for all those years? No, why would you think I’d want that?”

 

Steve looks like he’s been slapped and then looks guilty as hell. “I never meant…”

 

Danny stops and drops his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. When he looks back at Steve, he can see him flushed and uncomfortable. “I know you didn’t,” Danny concedes quietly. He never thought Steve was intentionally trying to hold him back, but in retrospect, it’s been gnawing at Danny. “But maybe the fact that you didn’t really think about it at all is just as bad.”

 

Steve sucks in an audible breath and drops Danny’s arm like it just burned him and Danny takes the opportunity to get out of the door as fast as he can.

 

They just can’t stop doing this to each other; picking at each other, opening old wounds, finding the soft, vulnerable spots. Any doubts Danny had about whether or not he’d made the right choice in leaving is completely gone.

 

**

 

Danny needs some distance, for sure, so when Steve calls and tries to pull Danny into more of 5-0’s cases, Danny refuses. He knew that he couldn’t really have said no when the case had involved Catherine; regardless of whatever else is happening between them, Danny wouldn’t have left Steve hanging out there on his own on that one. Of course, Chin and Kono and Lou were there, but it’s been Danny that Steve’s poured his heart out to about Cath over the last 5 years. Well, poured his heart out might be a bit of an over statement, but it had been Danny who sat quietly with him watching the sunset in Steve’s back yard while Steve mostly worked out his issues internally. Regardless, Danny had felt like he needed to be there and have Steve’s back as his _friend_ , not his partner.

 

The mistake had been letting Steve drag him along on that damn case with the Iron Man suit. It was a dangerous precedent and not one Danny plans on repeating, so when Steve keeps calling and trying to pull Danny into cases 5-0 is working, Danny finds easy reasons to say no. Honestly, he isn’t entirely sure why Steve is even trying. Danny thinks it has less to do with Steve actually thinking he needs Danny and more to do with Steve’s need to control every fucking thing.

 

Once or twice, he probably could have gone with no problem at all since he wasn’t working on anything particularly pressing at HPD, but he knows he needs to define better boundaries with Steve. They _don’t_ work together anymore, and he needs to accept that as much as Steve does. It doesn’t do either of them any good to keep pressing this.

 

A few weeks after the episode in Danny’s old office, Steve calls again. Danny’s ready to light into Steve and tell him to back off, but instead of trying to drag Danny into a case, he’s calling to invite Danny and the kids over to the beach the coming Saturday. Part of Danny wants to say no. But a bigger part of him doesn’t want to punish his kids just to make himself feel better – they love Steve and love spending time with him at his beach. And really, what Danny had wanted – had sincerely meant when he’d said it to Steve – was that they should remain friends, just not work together. So he braces himself for anything and takes the kids to Steve’s for the day.

 

The kids have a great time – like that was ever in question. But, happy surprise, Danny has a great time, too. Danny can tell that Steve’s working hard to keep things civil and Danny works hard in response. They don’t talk about work at all – that helps.   Before he knows it, the day edges into evening and suddenly Danny and the kids have been at Steve’s for going on 12 hours. There’s a strange sort of domesticity to it, like they’re a little family, spending the day together – and Danny’s supposes they are, in the Ohana sense of the word. The best part is they don’t have a single argument. Danny’s hopeful that maybe they’ve turned a corner on this… whatever this is, that has them up and down like a fucking yo-yo.

 

Steve makes tentative attempts to pull Danny into a couple of 5-0 cases over the next week or so, but they’re weak attempts and he backs off quickly when Danny tells him no with the easy and truthful excuse that he’s busy leading his own cases at HPD. He barely has time to miss 5-0, but it hits him at odd moments. Like when he’s working a case and he finds something that might be a break and he looks up to tell his team and it’s not the team he wants to see. Or when he runs across the street for coffee and almost orders one for Kono like he always does. Twice already, he’s walked out of the Starbucks with two cups in his hand, too embarrassed to tell the barista that he’d made a mistake and doesn’t actually need the double Americano.

 

Danny invites Steve along with him and the kids to a go-cart track and out for pizza afterward. They all have a great time, and yes, Danny actually believes that they’ve turned the corner in their relationship. They spend the day in friendly competition, laughing and joking, giving each other a hard time, but it never devolves into the mean sniping that had become so familiar lately. This time they do talk about work a little bit; Steve asks Danny about the cases he’s working and vice versa. They bounce ideas off each other as the kids play in the arcade. It’s a great day all around and by the end of it, Danny realizes he’s relaxed and happy with his new reality and Steve seems to be at peace with the fact that he won’t be coming back to 5-0.

 

Danny should know better than to think that anything in his life could be that simple, because then there’s a chemical spill at Halawa, and a bus-load of prisoners in transit escapes into the jungle and everything goes to shit. Again.

 

Practically every cop on the island is on-scene and they’re calling in reinforcements from the Big Island as well because a bus-load of escaped maximum-security prisoners is a fucking PR nightmare for tourism. Danny’s at the crash site gearing up when he sees Steve stalking over to him wearing his fierce-face #20.

 

“Danny, you’re with us,” he declares.

 

Danny stiffens at the apparent order. “I got my guys here,” he responds. “We’ll track over to the south.”

 

“Five-0 is in charge here, Danny. I said, you’re with us,” Steve repeats and then turns and shouts orders to the other groups of cops getting ready to head out on the search.

 

Danny curses under his breath as he tightens his tac vest. Jesus, the guy is such a fucking alpha dog, always having to piss on the tree last. He’s reaching into his car to grab his weapon and some water when Steve steps close. Danny huffs out an angry breath and glares up at him.

 

“Look, Danny,” Steve murmurs quietly, then points his gaze over Danny’s shoulder. “I know you don’t want to be here with us – with _me_ \- but I think Kono would appreciate it if you would stick with us on this one.” When he finishes, he shifts his gaze back to Danny for a second, and then turns around and heads back over to where the rest of the 5-0 unit are still gearing up.

 

Something in Danny’s stomach twists, because Steve only got it partly right. He doesn’t want to be there with Steve, that’s true. But the other half to that truth is that almost more than anything else, Danny does want to be there with Steve. He feels like there’s a fucking tug of war going on inside of him and it’s making him angry and he’s just about ready to call Steve out publicly and tell him where he can shove his demands and his orders when he catches sight of Kono and completely deflates. She’s a mess with worry about Adam and it’s obvious she’s barely holding it together. The last thing she probably needs right now is him and Steve getting into a public pissing match.  

 

So Danny shuts his mouth and goes along, not because Steve had “ordered” him, but because if this all goes very bad for Kono, he wants to be there for his friend.

 

But, once again, if Danny had any doubts that he’d made the right decision in leaving 5-0, they vanish that day in the jungle. Steve is a passive-aggressive jerk the entire time, ignoring Danny’s questions and being smug when he’s proved right. Danny is seething and on edge all day.

 

Once they get Adam back and Danny gives Kono a tight hug and a kiss to the side of the head, he cannot get off scene soon enough. He doesn’t say anything to Steve, just strips off his gear and throws it in the truck of his car and gets the hell out.   It’s 5-0’s collar, they can write it up.

 

When he gets home, Danny grabs a beer from the fridge and goes outside and sits. He’s found that he can’t get past the impulse to sit outside when he’s got something to work through. It had never been a thing for him before he came to Hawaii, but after six years of sitting with Steve in his backyard to decompress, to nurse their wounds, to be silent strength for each other, Danny finds he goes to his own lanai without thinking. He sips on his beer and tries to sort through what had happened that day. He had thought he and Steve had turned a corner and that they were over the hurt and petty attacks. Clearly, they weren’t. By the time he goes to bed a few hours later, he still doesn’t have any answers.  

 

**

 

Steve pulls rank again a few weeks later and Danny is livid. “You do _not_ need me, specifically, on this case, McGarrett!” The last thing he fucking wants is a replay of the tension of their forced march in the jungle and Steve’s all-around, general dickery.

 

“You have a relationship with someone we need help from. One of your CIs.”

 

“What?” Danny calls bullshit. “One of my CIs? What the hell are you talking about?” He rifles though the file of CIs he has in his head.

 

“Toast,” Steve says.

 

“Toast?” Danny says incredulously. “I haven’t seen that punk for 3 years and besides, the second you met him, you co-opted him as _your_ CI.”

 

“He trusts you the most, Danny, and he’s about to get on a plane. Meet me at the airport in 30.”

 

Steve cuts the connection before Danny has a chance to protest any further. Instead he takes out his frustrations on his desk, opening and then slamming a drawer closed, causing everyone near him to look his way. “Sorry,” he mutters, and gets up to let his Captain know that he’s been beckoned by 5-0.

 

The Captain sighs and tosses his pen down on his desk. “Again?” he asks, sounding annoyed. “He does know you work for us now, right?” the man glowers at Danny.

 

“I keep trying to remind him,” Danny mumbles his frustration.

 

“Listen, William. I know there’s history there between you and McGarrett. Have you considered the possibility that that’s where you belong?”

 

Danny’s heart jack-rabbits in his chest. “No! No, Sir. I swear I am happy right where I am and I have no interest in going back to 5-0,” Danny tries his best to reassure the man. “One of my old CIs has a certain skill that 5-0 needs in a case they’re working, and McGarrett wants me to talk to him. That’s all.”

 

“I know 5-0 has the authority to direct HPD when necessary, but you tell your partner--”

 

“He’s not my partner.”

 

The Captain glowers at him again. “You tell your partner that he’s pushing our interagency cooperative arrangement.”

 

Danny knows when to cut his losses. “Yes, Sir,” he tells his boss and darts out the door.

 

Danny ducks out of HPD as subtly as possible, before any of the other cops can ask where he’s going, and meets Steve at the airport. And, of course, isn’t it just his life that Toast turns out to be the inventor of the current bane of Danny’s existence: Poopy Penguin. He should have busted that kid all those years ago when he had the chance and then he wouldn’t be shelling out so goddamn much money every month for Grace and Charlie to be buying virtual penguin food.

 

Once they’ve cleared the case and they’re wrapping things up, Steve turns to him with a grin. “Hey, this was great, huh?”

 

Danny’s frustration bubbles to the surface and he stops Steve with a hand to the chest. “No, Steve. No. This was not great. You can’t do this anymore. It has to stop.”

 

“What? What has to stop?”

“What, he asks,” Danny mutters rhetorically. “This! You calling me and dragging me into 5-0 cases when you don’t need to! I do not work for you anymore, Steve, and I can’t be leaving my regular job, the one that _pays_ me, to run around after you when you have 3 other perfectly capable cops working for you. Four, if you count Abby. And four and a half if you count that idiot you’ve got working down in the basement! I’m serious, Steve. _This has to stop!_ ”

 

Steve blinks at him for a second and then his face shutters. “Okay, Danny. Whatever you say,”

 

**

 

They had plans to meet up at the North Shore to take the kids surfing the following Sunday. Danny finds he’s anxious as he waits on the beach, one eye on the kids in the water and one eye on the parking lot. He’s worried Steve might not show and wondering what he’ll tell the kids if he doesn’t. ‘Sorry kids, your dad’s a jerk and he made Uncle Steve feel bad so he’s not coming’.  

 

But Steve does show, and if Danny’s honest with himself, he never really believed Steve would be so petty as to take their shit out on Grace and Charlie.   It’s a little awkward for the first few minutes, but they quickly settle into their pattern of easy banter, steering well clear of work talk again.

 

At the end of the day, Steve’s loading the surf boards into the back of his truck when Danny approaches. “So. We good?” Danny squints up at Steve.

 

Steve smiles as he straps the boards down then looks over to at him. “Yeah. We’re good, Danny,” he answers and pulls Danny into a hug.

 

Danny smiles and hugs him back, clapping his back a couple times for good measure. Another corner turned.

 

Danny should know better by now.

 

**

 

“Danny, we need you,” Steve says without preamble the second Danny answered his phone.

 

Danny sighs, getting out of his car at HPD, juggling a cup of hot coffee in one hand and a small bag of malasadas in his other. “No, you do not need _me,_ Steve. If 5-0 needs back-up, I can get you a whole retinue of HPD officers.”

 

“We know where Gabriel is,” Steve says and Danny stops in his tracks. “Don’t you wanna help us take that bastard down once and for all?”

 

Shit. Of course he does. Because as far as Danny is concerned, this whole Gabriel thing is all Danny’s fault. Because if Chin hadn’t gotten that 5.5 million from Gabriel, maybe none of this other shit would have played out the way it did. But Danny had borrowed it and his brother had died anyway and now he owes his former teammate a hell of a lot for setting them down a road that has pretty much been complete shit for Chin for the last year and a half.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Danny closes his eyes. “Where and when?” he asks, and he can hear the resignation in his own voice.

 

The whole fucking day is a clusterfuck of massive proportions and they all just barely manage to survive intact. And as a special bonus, he and Steve get into one of their little bitch sessions in front of the whole team on the top of a roof while a horde of gun-wielding madmen are chasing them. Awesome.

 

But Danny does not mind one bit that that asshole Gabriel is dead.

 

He falls into bed that night, physically and emotionally exhausted but knowing he’s not going to get a wink of sleep, the events of the day turning over and over in his head. On the plus side, with Gabriel dead, now maybe all of this can finally be put to rest. He’s pretty sure that no one else outside of the team – and now Abby - know about the deal Chin had struck on Danny’s behalf. The FBI may have had suspicions, but clearly Gabriel never gave anyone any real information or all of them would be in jail by now. He still can’t help feeling like he deserves all of this and more because of what he did in Colombia, but he is relieved as hell that this might actually be the end of any ramifications for his friends.  

 

Danny’s not sure where on the scale of the day Steve’s words of love fall - whether they were a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, Danny had thought they were done with that - that those kinds of declarations were in their past – so it had been so startling that he’d almost missed the jump. On the other hand, the words weren’t exactly said in a particularly endearing way, so maybe it was just a reflex on Steve’s part and not a real sentiment.

 

In the end, Danny stops trying to puzzle out Steve’s behavior – and his own – and just slots it into the huge confusing file of their epic love/hate relationship.

 

**

 

Danny curses softly when he looks at his phone and sees it’s Steve calling. After last week’s debacle with Gabriel, Danny definitely needs some distance. He hits ignore and puts the phone face down on his desk and returns to the research he’s doing on his computer.

 

The third time Steve tries to call in as many minutes Danny picks up. “What!?” he snaps. “You know, I do have a job, Steven. One that no longer requires daily interaction with you.”

 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “Steve?” Danny asks, despite himself, suddenly worried.  

 

“Yeah,” Steve finally replies, then clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says again.

 

Danny pauses. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

 

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, I was wondering if you had some time. Could you come over to HQ?”

 

Danny sighs audibly. “Steve. Look. We can’t keep doing this…”

 

“I just got back from Morocco,” Steve interrupts him with that complete non-sequitur.

 

What? What the hell was Steve doing in Morocco? “What the hell were you doing in Morocco?”

 

“I was at a, uh, CIA black site. They’re holding Wo Fat’s father there.”

 

“Wo Fat’s…” Danny’s mouth hangs open. “Steve, what the hell is going on?”

 

“I can’t… I can’t talk about it over the phone,” Steve says, with something sounding like apology in his voice.

 

It’s not like there’s any question. Like he’d ever really leave Steve to deal with the shit that Doris drags into his life alone. “I’ll be there in ten,” Danny says and cuts the connection, already half-way out the door.

 

**

 

“And then he told me that he forgives me,” Steve tells him, wrapping up.

 

Danny’s been listening to Steve’s story about…Mr. Fat?... for the last ten minutes and he cannot believe the shit that keeps coming at his friend because of that piece-of-work mother of his, or the way it never seems to phase Steve that this?... this is not normal familial behavior.

 

“Forgives you? For… killing Wo Fat?” Danny asks, sure he’s unsuccessful at his effort to keep his skepticism out of the question. Well, in all honestly, maybe he didn’t try that hard.

 

“Yeah,” Steve continues. “He said he understood. He said that his son’s obsession with revenge was his ultimate undoing.”  

 

“Huh,” Danny says, feeling much more dubious about the man’s magnanimous forgiveness than Steve seemingly does.

 

“Mn hm,” Steve answers, either oblivious to Danny’s reaction or willfully ignoring it, Danny’s not sure which.

 

But Danny wouldn’t be Danny if he didn’t call things like he sees them, and it’s not like Steve didn’t know that about Danny when he called and asked him to come. “So you, you flew all that way for a… fortune cookie quote.   They don’t got phones in Morocco, or what?”

 

“Clearly it was important to this old man that he look me in the eye when he said what he had to say.”

 

And now for the ten thousand-dollar question. Danny can’t stop himself. Despite everything, he cares about the guy and can’t stand seeing Steve get dragged down another rabbit hole. “Did he mention Doris?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, he mentioned Doris, briefly. He said that despite my mother’s betrayal, he still loved her. The fact that she looked after his son for as long as she did, whether it was out of guilt or pity or a sense of duty… he said he was grateful for that.”

 

But before Danny can give Steve one of the many – oh _so_ many – clever retorts he has on the tip of his tongue to respond to _that_ , shouting from the hall draws their attention.

 

“Steve! Steve!”

 

“Hey. Heyheyhey!” Danny starts, jumping to his feet before he realizes it’s just Nahele.

 

“Sorry, Commander. He just went right by my desk,” the officer says, hands gripped firmly on Nahele’s shoulders.

 

“It’s okay, I know him. I know him. I got it, chief. I got it,” Steve reassures the man. “Nahele, what’s wrong?” he asks urgently.

 

“Listen, I can see you got some things to talk about. And I gotta head back to HPD,” Danny says, seeing his chance to break away and get back to his own job. “Nahele, take care, buddy,” he adds, touching the boy’s shoulder as he walks past.

 

Steve flicks a distracted glance his way. “Yeah, okay. See you later, Danno.”

 

Danny turns back and looks at Steve in surprise, but Steve’s focused on Nahele and has apparently not registered the fact that he’s called Danny ‘Danno’ for the first time in months. As much as Danny’s been frustrated and angry with Steve more often than not over the last few months, it hits Danny hard how much he’s actually missed it. Danny slips out of the Palace more confused than ever about the state of their relationship.

 

Distance, Danny reminds himself. He _has_ to stop coming every time Steve calls so he can get some distance.

 

But two hours later, Danny sighs as he suits up to go with the rest of 5-0 to turn a drug den upside down to find out who’s responsible for killing Nahele’s friend. It’s personal for Steve and Danny’s got to be there. He’s beginning to think that there’s really no way that he’s ever going to separate himself enough from Steve’s life to gain some perspective. It’s like they’re inextricably connected somehow; like they share some sort of fundamental piece of themselves that one or the other of them cannot live without.

 

Danny grabs his gun and follows Steve inside.

 


	2. a time to heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets shot. Danny lands a plane. Danny gives Steve part of a vital organ. I try to give explanation to the pile of excrement the writers gave us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of dialogue taken directly from H50 episode 6x25 in this chapter. All credit for it goes to the shows writers/producers - thankfully - because I sure as hell don't want to take credit for it.
> 
> My M.O. with this chapter isn't so much to rewrite the events, because, sure, that would be easy enough. But, honestly, I kind of felt like I would never be able to move on and get over my resentment if I didn't come up with a plausible explanation for what we saw on screen - one that could make sense and could somehow make it all be... not so horrible. I tried to anyway. And I do feel kind of better. : )
> 
> As usual, thanks KippyVee for the beta!

 

Steve’s floating. He’s not in any pain. He feels fine and that’s the problem. He knows - from seeing too many guys die, from surviving too many times himself - that when you _don’t_ feel pain? _That’s_ when you’re in trouble.

 

But Danny’s in trouble, too, because there’s an asshole with a gun pointed at his partner’s head.

 

“Shoot ‘im, Danny,” Steve manages.

 

“I got… I got it,” Danny says and Steve feels a light touch on his shoulder.

 

Nononono… Danny doesn’t got it, because Danny’s never been good at taking the shot, always too hesitant and looking for the alternative, but even more so since Colombia and Marco Reyes. One flick of his trigger finger and Danny could put that issue to rest, but Danny… Danny’s trying to _rationalize_ with the guy. If it’s weren’t so worrisome, and if Steve had any control over his body, he'd roll his eyes.

 

He can hear the two of them continue to bicker, then feels an insistent hand on his shoulder.

 

“Stay awake”, Danny says, and damn it, Danny, worry about the guy with the _fucking gun in your face!_   

 

“I’m dyin’,” he tells his partner because he doesn’t want Danny to be surprised when he does not, in fact, stay awake. He can hear the diatribe in his head, now – how Steve’s always trying to get himself killed and this time he actually did. Danny’s going to be pissed.

 

And, no, Danny don’t take your gun off the guy! But it’s too late; Danny’s dropped his gun and has turned back around on the seat.

 

“You wanna shoot me, shoot me, go ahead,” he hears Danny say, and Steve groans out loud.

 

Things fuzz out for a minute and he floats some more until Danny's voice calls him back. “Steve. You’re alright, Steve.”  There's so much panic in Danny’s voice and Steve can tell that Danny doesn't really believe his own words.

 

“I’m gonna die, Danny,” he tells him again. Trying to preparing him for the inevitable.

 

 _“No, you’re not!”_   Danny yells at him and Steve almost wants to smile at his partner’s predictable recalcitrance.

 

Danny’s still talking to him but the words don’t seem to translate in Steve’s brain anymore.  He’s dying.  He’s dying and he never did what he always meant to do. He’s dying and he never had the chance to say all the things to Danny that he really wanted to say.

 

No, that’s not true – he had the chance - he just never took it.

 

There’s so much he wants to say now, but the words won’t come out. He can’t get them out no matter how hard he tries because this time it’s not his head stopping him; it’s his body. He’s trying, he’s trying so hard, because he needs to tell Danny that he's sorry and how much he loves him, and that Danny is everything and they should be _together,_ and... and he can't because his life is seeping out of his body with his blood and he can’t make his lips move or his eyes open and he’s dying and damn it, he’ll never get the chance to tell Danny…

 

This is not how things were supposed to end.

 

**

 

No. Nonononono… This cannot be happening. Steve’s got at least a couple bullet holes in him and there’s so much blood already and he’s so, so pale and Danny... Danny’s never been so terrified. “Buddy,” Danny pleads, panic rising. “Buddy,” Danny says again, not sure why, but what he is sure of is that he _does not know how to fly a plane_ , much less _land_ one and they are going to die because the plane is starting to dive toward the ocean. Danny reaches over to press a quick hand to Steve and then grabs the controls to pull the nose up the way he’s seen Steve do. Once it seems like they’re at least not plunging toward the ocean anymore, he reaches for the radio.

 

“Mayday… Mayday… I’m in a Cessna aircraft en route to Oahu, and I have a serious, serious problem.” Steve is next to him wearing fear on his face like Danny has never seen and puffing out labored breaths. “Repeat, mayday, mayday.  Uuuuhhh, pilot has been shot, request immediate assistance.”

 

“This is Honolulu International Control, we read you, go ahead.”

 

“This is Lieutenant Danny Williams with HPD. I need help landing this plane.”

 

“You’re a cop?” Dae Won, the dickhead in the back of the plane, yells and reaches for his gun, quickly pointing it at Danny.

 

 _“HEY!”_ Danny pulls his own weapon and turns in his seat, pointing it back at the gun barrel he’s looking into. “Put down the gun!” he yells. Beside him, Steve let’s out a terrifying groan.

 

“Put yours down,” Dae Won demands as the plane starts a new dive.

 

“Put _down_ the gun. I’m not gonna ask ya again.”

 

“Not gonna happen.”

 

“Shoot ‘em, Danny,” Steve mumbles beside him. And Danny isn’t entirely sure why he doesn’t.

 

“I got it, I got it,” Danny mumbles, glancing quickly at Steve.

 

The radio squawks behind him. “Request switch to channel 1-7 for immediate assist.”

 

“Don’t you answer that!”

 

“If I don’t answer we’re gonna die, both of us. Either we shoot each other or this plane goes down, you understand that? Does that make sense to you?”

 

“Mayday request, do you copy?”

 

Even with a gun in his face and the radio calling him, Danny can’t help turning his focus to Steve for a moment, reaching out and gently nudging his shoulder. “Stay awake…” Danny pleads.

 

“Switch to Channel 17 for immediate assist.”

 

“Steve…”

 

“I’m dyin’, Danny,” Steve mumbles.

 

Something inside Danny tears open and he drops his gun, turning back around in the seat. “Alright you know what? You win,” Danny says. “You win. You wanna shoot me, _shoot me_ , go ahead but who’s gonna ff…fly this plane?” he stammers.

 

“Well, apparently, you can’t fly either,” the asshole points out.

 

“That’s true but the people on the other end can. Alright you wanna shoot me, come sit in my lap, be my guest, do it. Alright? Huh? Look, I promise you. If I land this plane safely, you and I will pick up right where we left off, okay? _ALRIGHT?_    _HUH?_ ” Apparently Dae Won is beginning to understand the seriousness of the situation because he finally puts down his damn gun. “Alright, good. … Steve… Switching to channel 17. You’re alright, Steve,” he says, his attention split between the radio and his friend.

 

“I’m gonna die, Danny,” Steve says again and Danny’s stomach works its way into his throat. He’s seen Steve all kinds of messed up before – more times than he’d like to count – but Steve’s never, _ever_ said that.

 

“ _No, you’re not._ Just hang in there. You’re gonna be alright. Alright?” Danny picks up the radio. “Again, this is Lieutenant Danny Williams, I am in a Cessna aircraft. I’m headed your way. The pilot, my colleague’s been shot. He’s got multiple gunshot wounds. I need EMTs standing by right when we get this thing on the ground, which I have no clue – ZERO CLUE – how to do. Over.” When Danny finishes, he looks over again at Steve and it’s clear that he’s unconscious now. Fuck. Danny has got to get this plane on the ground fast or whatever slim chance Steve has – which he doesn’t want to admit, might actually be none – will be gone.

 

“I copy that, Lieutenant. Your approach is good. We just need to slow you down a little.”

 

“Okay, alright. Slow us down, how, how do I do that?” Danny looks over to see that Steve’s eyes are closed now and he looks mostly dead. “Steve,” he says, making a quick reach over to try to jostle him back into consciousness.

 

“Between you and the pilot are 3 pull levers. The furthest to your left is your throttle. Push it down to 25%.”

 

Danny does as instructed. He thinks. “Okay done.”

 

“Good. Good, now keep both hands on the control. Check your level. Dead center to the pilot. Make sure you don’t dip below the horizon line and keep your compass heading between North and the number 3.”

 

“Okay. North and number 3. Got that,” he answers, then turns to look at Steve. “Buddy,” he says, nudging Steve again and then noticing the growing pool of blood under him for the first time. “Oh no… oh no. Steve… I, I alright … _You_ ,” he snaps at Dae Won. “I need you to do something for me, alright?”

 

“Focus on getting the plane down--”

 

“Do what I--”

 

“--don’t _talk_ to me!” the asshat snaps at Danny.

 

Seriously? Don’t _talk_ to him? Danny has no time for this bullshit. “Do what I tell you to do or I’m gonna drop this thing in the water, you understand?”

 

“Whaddaya want?” he relents, frustrated and terrified.

 

“I want you to put your hand on his neck and tell me if you feel a pulse, okay?” It makes Danny sick to say the words, to actually _ask_ this fucker to touch his dying – maybe dead – friend, but Danny _needs_ to know and he doesn’t trust that his hand won’t be shaking too hard to be able to feel it himself.

 

Dae Won reaches out and presses his fingers reluctantly to Steve’s neck, then pulls them back quickly. “I, I , I don’t _know!_ ”

 

“Whaddaya mean you don’t know? Keep your hand on his neck - either you feel a pulse or you don’t!” Danny yells at him. What a fucking moron this guy is!

 

Something in the plane starts to beep and Danny looks around in panic trying to find the source. He grabs the radio. “Uh, control, I got a, I got a… an alarm and I don’t know what it is.”

 

“Check your gauges, whaddaya see?”

 

“What do I see, I see a lotta gauges!” he snaps, feeling so close to the end of his rope.

 

“What’s your air speed?”

 

“Ah, ah, air, air speed is… 155.”

 

“What about altitude?”

 

“Altitude’s 500 but falling.”

 

“Fuel?”

 

 _Shit!_   “Fuel is no good. Uuuh, needle’s right at zero.”

 

“Alright… you’re running out of fuel. We’ll get you down as soon as possible.”

 

“Yeah, well that’s fine, fine with me.”

 

“The Coast Guard has been notified, stand by for emergency ditch procedures.”

 

“Wh,wh,what does he mean by ditch?” Dae Won asks behind him.

 

“I dunno,” Danny mumbles. “What do you mean by ditch?” he asks into the mic.

 

“Lieutenant, based on your current altitude, air speed and available fuel, you’re never gonna make the runway.”

 

Danny blows out a deep breath and looks over at Steve. He’s still unconscious and still bleeding heavily. Steve was probably right – he probably is dying – and a ditch in the ocean is only going to decrease the small chance he already has for survival.

 

“What’re we gonna do? He said we have to ditch.”

 

“Yeah, well we’re not ditchin,” Danny tells him, exactly at the same moment that the engines die altogether. Fuck.

 

“Control we just… lost both of our engines,” Danny reports, quickly losing hope. It’s getting more and more obvious that there’s little likelihood that any of them are going to survive this.

 

“Alright Lieutenant, beneath the dash is a large red handle. Pull it to feather your props. Don’t try to fight gravity.”

 

Danny has no idea what the hell that even means, but he does as told anyway. “Large red handle. Don’t fight gravity. Copy, got that.” Danny pulls the lever and then sees the propellers shift so that they can slice easily through the air.

 

“Okay, Lieutenant. Next to the radio controls are your landing gear settings. There’s a switch labeled ‘up water’. Flip it. The rear flaps one more peg to the landing position.”

 

Danny follows those instructions as well. “Okay, done.”

 

“Now you’re gonna have to… put her down in the water. Adjust your course to 175 degrees and let yourself glide.”

 

Danny looks over to Steve again, his mind racing. “Ahhh … Uhhh.” Steve is… Steve is… God, Steve will never survive something like that.

 

He makes an easy decision.

 

“Alright, uh, control that’s, that’s not gonna work, okay? My, my partner, he’s unconscious. If I put this thing down in the water, I’m not gonna be able to get him outta the plane, he’s gonna drown.”

 

“You don’t have a choice, Lieutenant.”

 

“Yeah, yeah yeah, I, I, I, I gotta choice, I’m, I’m, I’m gonna put this thing down on the beach, okay.”

 

“Lieutenant, we _strongly_ advise against that. I understand your concern for your friend. Consider yourself. Your best chance of survival… is a water landing.”

 

Consider himself? Consider _himself?_ His friend, his one-time partner, his… something else undefined but singularly important, is bleeding to death next to him and this guy wants him to consider _himself?_

 

“Listen, I’m not gonna put it down in the water, I’m puttin’ this thing down on the beach, okay? Clear the beach I’m coming in,” he informs them and drops the radio to end the debate.

 

“Alright,” Danny squirms in his seat. “Here we go,” he says, more to himself than anyone else.

 

“You’re gonna kill all of us,” Dae Won says, sounding scared.

 

“Shut up,” Danny says, almost as an afterthought, because, yeah, he doesn’t need this asshole to tell him something he already knows. He probably _is_ going to kill them all, but Danny know that he has to do everything he possibly can to save Steve; he couldn't live with himself, otherwise.

 

As the plane coasts downward, Danny reaches over and adjusts Steve’s seatbelt as best he can, terrified at what additional damage he might be causing but knowing that if they slam onto the beach without it, Steve will fly through the windscreen and his odds are bad enough already without adding more trauma.

 

“Hey… Steve… Listen to me. I know ya never been any good at listening to me but right now you got no choice you, stubborn son of a bitch. Do not die. _HEY!_ Listen to me! Do not die! Okay I’m not landing this thing for you to die on me, ya understand? _HUH?_ ” Steve doesn’t answer, of course, but Danny feels better for having said it anyway. “Good… good… alright here we go…”

 

**

 

Beyond his wildest hope, Danny somehow manages to put the plane on the ground and _not_ send it tumbling end over end. The landing is hard though, and in his concern for Steve, he’d forgotten to strap himself in securely, so he ends up slamming forward and feels a couple of ribs give at the impact with the control panel. But it’s the least of his concerns at the moment because, Jesus Christ, how is everyone moving so god-damned slow getting Steve out of the fucking plane?

 

 _“COME ON!”_ he yells at anyone and everyone. “He’s still alive!”  

 

He’s still alive. Steve’s still alive. By some fucking miracle, Danny managed not to kill Steve, or anyone else, while landing a plane that he didn’t know how to fly, on a beach that was full of people 30 seconds before. Maybe they’re going to get lucky after all.

 

Those hopes are shattered a couple hours later in a hallway at Tripler.

 

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” Dr. Cornett tells them as Danny clutches his side. Fuck, his ribs hurt, but he shakes it off because it’s hardly what’s important at the moment. “Commander McGarrett has suffered devastating trauma to his liver. A bullet has cut it into multiple fragments, making the entire organ inoperable. If he doesn’t receive a new liver in the next few hours, he will die.”

 

Danny doesn’t have a second of doubt or hesitation. He hasn’t gotten his partner this far today to leave him hanging now. “Why don’t we just save everybody some time, huh? Steve and I are the same blood type, so just, ya know, let’s use mine.”

 

Dr. Cornett scrutinizes him and then casts his glance at the others. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure. You said he’s gonna die, right? Of course I’m sure!”

 

“Okay, Lieutenant. We need to move quickly. If you’ll come with me.”

 

“Yeah, okay, gimme just one minute will ya, Doc?” he asks, looking between the team and the doctor.

 

“Of course,” he says, stepping away.

 

Danny turns to the others who are all wearing matching looks of concern.

 

“Danny, are you sure you wanna do this?” Chin asks.

 

Danny waves him off dismissively and focuses on Lou and Kono. “I really hate to ask you guys this, but Lou, could you call Rachel. And Kono, would you pick up Grace when school gets out and talk to her? She’s probably going to be a little freaked out--”

 

Kono puts a gently hand on his arm. “I got it, Danny,” she tells him with a strained smile.

 

“Thank you,” he blows out a relieved breath and wipes a hand down his face. “Okay. Let’s do this,” he says and starts to turn to look for Dr. Cornett. But before he can, Kono grabs him again and pulls him into a tight embrace. Danny grimaces at the pain in his side, but doesn’t pull away. He holds onto her for a moment than pulls back and wipes at the tears on her face. “Hey. Don’t worry, babe. He’s gonna be okay, right? I mean. He’s Steve. He’s indestructible.”

 

Kono looks at him. “We’re not just worried about Steve, Danny. What you’re doing…”

 

“Pssshht,” Danny flaps his hand. “I’ll be fine, Kono. Plus, I’ll get a few days off. You know. Get to lie around, not have to chase McGarrett around. And as an added bonus, he’ll be lying around too, so maybe we won’t have to worry about it for a little while. It’s gonna be like a vacation.”

 

Kono laughs a little and wipes her eyes some more and a moment later Chin reaches out and hugs him too – a little more loosely, thankfully. “Good luck, Danny.”

 

When he lets go, Lou steps in and takes his turn. “You’re a good man, Danny,” he says quietly, then gives him a light thump on the back.

 

“Okay, okay. Enough,” Danny waves off any more of their concern. “Hey, Doc. Are we ready?”

 

Dr. Cornett steps up from where he’s been standing a discreet distance away. “Yes. Lieutenant Williams, if you’ll come with me.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, Danny’s showered and into a hospital gown and they’re wheeling him down the hall on a gurney toward pre-op. He lies there and watches the ceiling tiles as they glide past, trying not to think about what comes next and what happens if the bullets that tore through Steve’s body did even more damage than just executing his liver. They’ve been through some shit before, all of them, but Danny’s never seen the kind of urgency the doctors are showing with Steve right now. It’s clear that he has very little time and this has to be done now if there’s any chance of saving him. So Danny lies there and wills the ceiling tiles to pass more quickly.

 

Soon enough, the aides who are transporting him park his gurney in a curtained pre-op area. “The surgical team will be here in a moment, Lieutenant Williams,” one of them tells him and then they slip away. Danny nods and stares at the ceiling. Dr. Cornett comes in and starts to give Danny meaningless details. None of it matters. He doesn’t need to know how fast his liver will regrow or how long he’ll be in the hospital post-op. He doesn’t care. All that matters to him is that they do whatever they need to do to save Steve and do it quickly.

 

Danny cuts him off. “Doc, do me a favor. Let’s just go in there and get this over with, huh?”

 

The doctor smiles. “Alright. We’ll be taking you back shortly,” he says and slips out of the cubical.

 

A rhythmic beeping on the other side of the partially-closed curtain eventually draws his attention and he turns and looks, and gasps when he can see just the top of the salt and pepper hair in the gurney next to his.

 

Danny glances toward the surgery station and can see a number of doctors and nurses in focused conference – no doubt discussing the upcoming transplant – but no one seems to be paying attention to him so he wraps an arm around his middle and sits up. He waits a moment for the fire in his side to subside a little, then slides off his gurney, grimacing the whole way. He shuffles in his bare feet over to the curtain and peeks around it, and sure enough, it’s Steve.

 

His throat tightens uncomfortably. God, he looks terrible. Worse than after North Korea, than after Afghanistan, than after Wo Fat. He’s so pale and still that Danny has to look over at the monitors to reassure himself that Steve’s actually alive. And when that’s not enough, he reaches out and circles his fingers around Steve’s wrist, looking for a pulse. His own heart thuds loudly in his chest when it takes him a few seconds to find it. He’s turned his head to call out, panicked, when he finally feels the thrumming, weak, but definitely there, and he breathes out in relief.      

 

“You stupid, stupid, son-of-a-bitch,” Danny murmurs quietly. “How could you let this happen to you? Huh? You’re supposed to be indestructible.” Danny reaches a hand up – slowly, because his ribs are killing him – and gently brushes Steve’s hair back. It’s a ridiculous gesture; Steve’s hair is military short, it’s not falling in his eyes. But he needs the contact, the closeness, the intimacy. “Shoulda kept that damned suit, made you wear it…” Danny feels his eyes welling dangerously full.

 

“You have to come through this, you hear me? Huh? We’re not done, you and I. We cannot leave things like they’ve been. We gotta turn it around.” Danny takes as deep a breath as his screaming ribs will allow. “I just… I just needed a break from you, I didn’t need you to disappear on me altogether. You got that? So, I’m gonna go in that other operating room and I’m gonna let them take whatever the hell they need outta me so they can give it to you and then you’re gonna be okay. You hear me?”

 

“Lieutenant Williams!” a voice cuts through his thoughts. “You shouldn’t be up and walking around.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny waves the nurse away aggressively as all heads turn in their direction. “Just… give me a second, will ya?”

 

“Lieutenant,” she says again, and now there are three others approaching as well.

 

“Listen to me. This is my best friend lying here on this bed, okay? And you’re all telling me that he might not make it through this. So, could you just give me a minute? Please!” he snaps at them, ready to get physical if he has to.

 

The three nurses and a doctor exchange glances, and then Dr. Cornett appears out of nowhere and steps up to the curtain. “Give them some privacy,” he directs the others, then turns a stern eye toward Danny. “You have two minutes,” he tells him, then slides the curtain closed and Danny hears the soft pad of his rubber soles recede.

 

“Okay, listen to me, you idiot,” he tells Steve, brushing his hair back again. “You gotta pull through this, okay? Because Grace and Charlie, they love you and I refuse to have to tell them that you are dead. You got that? I won’t do that to my kids, and neither will you. You hear me?” Danny stares at Steve for a moment and then glances back toward the hallway where he can hear the activity ramping up. “And, look, if I mean anything to you at all… I mean… Jesus…” he says, and cups a hand over his mouth for a few seconds and closes his eyes.

 

When he opens them, Steve looks exactly the same. “Oh, hell,” Danny snaps. “And I love you, okay? Not like… not like we always say, but… like, I _love_ you, love you,” Danny tells him, finally admitting it aloud for the first time. “Yeah… I love you, so you gotta be okay. Please. Steve. Please be okay,” he chokes and then bends down, ignoring the ripping pain in his ribs, and kisses Steve lightly on the lips, then presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes.

 

A moment later, the curtain opens, but Danny doesn’t move. “Lieutenant, we need to take him now,” Dr. Cornett tells him in a gentle voice. Danny sighs and turns and suddenly there are people surrounding both of them and someone is helping him back onto his gurney. They futz with his IV and Steve’s and Danny doesn’t take his eyes off of him the entire time, and even after they wheel Steve away, Danny keeps staring at the empty hall where his partner disappeared, praying it wasn’t the last time he was going to see Steve alive.  

 

**

** Post-op: **

Danny wakes up slowly and squints, trying to focus his vision. His eyes are gummy and his mouth is dry as the Sahara Desert and he feels like he got hit head-on by a truck.

 

“Danno…?” he hears Grace’s voice, small and tentative and scared and he turns his head toward her immediately.

 

“Hey, Monkey,” he croaks, using the nickname that she eschewed a couple years ago.

 

“Are you okay, Danno?” she asks, still sounding scared and he tries to reach out a hand to her, but he can hardly make his arm work. Grace sees and reaches to clutch his hand. “Are you okay?” she asks again.

 

“Yeah, baby, I’m good,” he says, just as a wave of nausea crashes over him and turns and retches, then groans at the agony that sears through his chest. Right, he cracked those ribs when he’d belly-flopped the plane onto the beach. The pain is just starting to recede when he retches again and this time it feels ten-times worse. He can’t stop the louder groan that works its way out of him.

 

Grace is up like a shot and bolting out the door. An instant later, Danny hears her saying loudly in the hall, “Can someone please come help my dad!”

 

Danny flinches at the fear he hears in her voice. He wants to tell her not to worry, that he’s fine and she shouldn’t bother the nurses, but then he remembers that the reason he’s in this bed is because he was giving half of his liver to Steve and his own panic sets in. He feels his heartrate pick up and instinctively takes a deep breath, causing more searing pain in his chest.

 

Grace rushes back into the room, a nurse close on her heels.

 

“Dad!” Grace says, fear written on her face. She reaches out and gently grips his hand. “Is he alright?” she asks, looking at the nurse with a desperate expression.  

 

Danny gives the nurse his own pleading look. “Steve…” Danny manages between the panting breaths and jagged pain in his chest.

 

“We didn’t expect you to be awake already,” the nurse says, injecting a needle into his IV line. “I’m giving you some morphine and an anti-emetic, Lieutenant Williams, you should feel better in a few seconds.”

 

Danny shakes his head in frustration and looks at Grace. He can see the tears welling in her eyes, and he’ll reassure her in a minute but right now he has to know.  “Steve,” he grits out again.

 

“He’s still in surgery, Dad,” Grace catches on and tells him quickly. “But the doctor said your part went good so they have your liver to transplant into Uncle Steve.”

 

“They’re not done yet?” Danny rasps worriedly, his body relaxing as the morphine takes hold and delivers some blessed relief from the pain.

 

“The surgery to receive a donated organ takes considerably longer than the donor’s surgery,” the nurse tells him. “You only got here to the recovery room a short time ago, yourself. It will probably be several more hours, at least.”

 

“Several more…” Danny’s eyes blink heavily and he struggles to lift his lids again. “You’ll let me know, though? Right? As soon as you hear anything…”

 

“Of course. Now rest, Lieutenant,” she tells him, but he’s already mostly gone.

 

Dimly, Danny hears Grace’s plaintive voice and it sends another stab of guilt through him. “Is my dad going to be alright?” He doesn’t catch the nurse’s reply before he’s completely out.

 

** Post-Op, Day 1: **

When Danny finally really wakes up, he’s out of recovery and in a room, and the sun is up. He has groggy memories from what he guesses was the previous night but he has no real idea how much time has passed. He remembers Grace and Chin and Kono and Lou variously hovering over him in recovery and telling him he’s fine, but it’s all mostly a blur. He knows he asked about Steve over and over, but nobody told him anything he can remember.

 

Grace is gone – Rachel probably made her go home to bed and he’s glad about that. He hated to see the worry and fear in her face and hanging around a hospital room with her dad is no place for a teenaged girl. He’s alone and he lifts his head a little and looks for the call button for the nurse. It’s lying on the bed near his right knee but when he reaches for it, the entire middle of his body screams at him; it’s not just the ribs, there’s another, deeper ache there as well, no doubt from the surgery. He stops and sucks in a pained breath. Damn it. He hears some noise and looks up to see a couple of people standing at the nurses’ station conferring over something.

 

“Hey,” Danny tries to yell out to them, but it come out more a rough whisper than anything else. His voice sounds raspy and hoarse, probably from the tracheal tube in surgery. He could really use a drink of water. Danny works to clear his throat so he can try again.

 

“Hey!” he says again and this time their heads pop up, seeking the source of the voice. “Listen to me. If someone doesn’t get in here in the next 10 seconds and tell me how Steve McGarrett is doing, I’m going to rip these IVs out of my arm and go find out myself.” The effort it takes to push those words out hurts his chest and abdomen and he winces, but it isn’t nearly as bad as it was the last time he woke up.

 

A couple seconds later, a doctor – Sato, his badge says - is standing next to his bed. “I wouldn’t advise that.”

 

“How’s Steve?” Danny cuts right to the chase.

 

“Commander McGarrett made it through the surgery but he’s still in recovery. We hope to move him here into the Critical Care Unit in a couple of hours.”

 

“Still in recovery?” Danny asks, surprised. Danny and Steve had gone into surgery at about 4:00 the afternoon before.   The clock on the wall says 10:48.

 

“The surgery was complicated,” he tells Danny, sounding far more serious than Danny is comfortable with.

 

Fuck. “Can I see him?” Danny asks woozily.

 

The doctor huffs at him, which Danny does not appreciate. “No,” he says firmly. “Not for a while. You’re in Critical Care for the moment as well, which means you stay where you are. We don’t expect Commander McGarrett to regain consciousness for quite a while anyway.”

 

“But he’s gonna be okay, right?” Danny presses.

 

The doctor hesitates and Danny tenses. “It wasn’t just his liver that was damaged. He had extensive internal injuries caused by two bullets, plus the bullet wound in his shoulder. He lost a lot of blood, he’s weak and he just underwent 15 hours of repair surgery as well as a liver transplant. That’s a lot for the human body to endure. We’ve done what we can, now the rest is up to him, but his body is going to need to do some hard work to clear some hurdles. The next two or three days will be critical.”

 

“What exactly are you saying?” Danny asks, dread rising up inside him.

 

“Just, that he’s not out of the woods yet.”

 

**

 

Danny tries to stay awake to watch for when they bring Steve into the CCU. The patient rooms are laid out in a horseshoe shape around the nurses’ station and they’re all fronted with windows that look out onto it, so Danny can see all the comings and goings from his bed. But one minute he’s awake and watching and waiting, and then next he blinks his eyes open and realizes he must have fallen asleep. The clock in the room says he’s been out for almost three hours and there’s someone occupying a room off to the left that was empty earlier. He manages to get one of the nurses to confirm that it’s Steve.

 

He spends the rest of the day – when he’s awake – staring obsessively at the room off to the left, watching the doctors and nurses as they move in and out of Steve’s room. All they’ll tell him is that Steve is still unconscious and he’s in critical condition.

 

Sometimes, if both of their curtains are open just right, he can see Steve’s legs, and he watches to see if they move at all.

 

They don’t. Not once.

 

** Post-op, Day 2:  **

In the CCU, visitors are limited to family and that means that the only familiar face Danny sees that day is Grace, because Charlie is too young to be up here without an adult. Grace is not nearly so sad and scared looking today so that loosens the massive knot in Danny’s chest a little.

 

They’re not letting anyone in to see Steve. His status is too precarious. Besides, his only family is too far away. Joanie is apparently down with the damn chicken pox so Mary can’t travel with her and she doesn’t have anyone to leave the little girl with for any length of time. And who knows where the hell Doris is. Not that she’d be much of a welcome sight even if she did show up. It makes Danny infinitely sad to think of Steve waking up alone in the hospital – no family or loved ones around to comfort and reassure him. Danny’s allowed because he’s Steve’s medical power-of-attorney. But it’s not the same. Not the same as waking up to see people who love you by your bedside. Well, maybe it is the same, actually.

 

They want him up and walking as soon as possible so the minute they help him out of bed and get him on his feet, be beelines over toward Steve’s room. Well, beelines might be a bit of an overstatement. It’s more like he shuffles.

 

“Lieutenant…” his nurse-escort starts, but Danny cuts her off.

 

“Listen to me!” he snaps at her. “The only way you are going to stop me from going in to see him is if you and every other doctor and nurse on this wing comes over here and physically stops me. You got that?”

 

The nurse shrinks back and glances toward the nurses’ station where two others are watching things unfold. A silent exchange seems to happen and the nurse sighs.

 

“Fine,” she finally concedes and follows closely as he makes his way to Steve’s bedside.

 

He looks bad. There have been so many moments in the last couple of days when Danny didn’t think he’d ever seen Steve look worse, but he thinks it again just now. He’s still so pale and … diminished looking. He’d still got a breathing tube in and the noise of the machine compressing up and down is obscene. He’s not in a gown, his chest is exposed and where it’s not covered in white bandages, it’s purple and black and Danny’s knees start to buckle a little before the nurse grabs his arm and urges him to turn back.

 

“No… no… I’m good… just…” Danny brushes her off.

 

“Lieutenant…” she starts, her concern for him evident.

 

“Just… gimme a minute, would you please,” Danny asks in a softer and much more conciliatory tone, his eyes never leaving Steve.

 

She pauses for a beat and Danny knows she’s scrutinizing him, but he keeps staring at Steve, willing him to open his eyes. Eventually, she relents and takes a few steps back. Danny takes a step closer, reaching out tentatively to touch his fingers to Steve’s hand. It’s reassuringly warm.

 

Danny wants Steve’s heartrate to kick up a notch; wants to see his eyelids flutter open; wants his hand to reach around and grasp Danny’s.

 

None of those things happen.      

 

**

 

When he gets back into his bed, he thinks about the things he said to Steve before the surgery – how he’d confessed his feelings while the man was conscious. He glances at the still body in the room across the way and resolves that if Steve makes it through this – if he actually survives and walks out of this hospital one day, Danny will tell Steve the truth about his feeling.  He knows it's ridiculously cliché, but that there's universal truth to it as well.  He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize it, especially given Steve’s special talent for getting himself hurt, but Danny finally gets that life is far too fragile to sit back and wait to see what might happen.  

 

 

** Post-op, Day 3: **

“Hey, can I, uh, go up and check on Steve?” he asks his nurse first thing when she walks into the room at 6:00am. He was moved out of the CCU and onto the post-surgical floor late the day before, much to his frustration. He can’t track what’s going on with Steve from here and though he can likely slip from his bed and out of his room more easily on this floor, getting all the way down the hall, into the elevator, out on the 6th floor and down the hall into Steve’s room in the CCU will not likely go unnoticed. He might as well get their okay if he can.

 

“Let’s check and see how you’re doing first, shall we?” the nurse answers as she presses buttons on the monitor next to his bed. That’s a more hopeful response than he expected, at least.

 

“I’m fine,” he says as she hits the button to get the blood pressure cuff to inflate, but she’s been looking at the monitor and frowning for a few seconds. “What? What’s with the frown? You don’t even have the reading yet.”

 

“Your temperature seems to be a little elevated,” she tells him as she pulls a thermometer out of her smock pocket.

 

“I’m fine,” he insists, but she swipes it across his forehead anyway. “What? What’s it say?” he asks, seeing her less-than-pleased expression.

 

“100.2. You’re not going anywhere, Lieutenant Williams. Sit tight, I’ll be back with some antibiotics in a little bit.”

 

Danny huffs out a frustrated breath and waits impatiently for her to return. As soon as she does, he’s asking her again. “Okay, so, you gimme the antibiotics and then can I go see how Steve’s doing?”

 

“Sorry, but no,” she tells him. “You’ve got a fever and Commander McGarrett is in CCU. Those two things aren’t compatible.”

 

“Come on… it’s just a post-surgery thing. It’s happened every time I’ve gone under anesthesia. I spike a little fever for a couple days and then I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure you want to take that chance?” she asks with one eyebrow raised. “It could be MRSA or streptococcus and if you spread that to your friend he could die.”

 

Danny stares at her, mouth agape. “Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine…” he grumbles.

 

She gives him an indulgent smile and continues on with getting the antibiotics hooked up.

 

“Okay, well can you at least go find out how he’s doing?”

 

“I just came on shift and have a lot in the queue, but I’ll see what I can find out when I have a chance.”

 

“Come on! I gave the guy half my liver. I deserve to know how he’s treating it!” he yells to her retreating form.

 

**

 

“Hey, any word on Steve?” he asks her when she comes back an hour or so later.

 

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I have a lot of other patients beside you and I haven’t had a chance to check yet.”

 

“Hey, you know, there’s been this magical invention you might try. It’s called a telephone, and you can use it to talk to people that you can’t even see. It’s amazing, really,” Danny says sarcastically. He’d try that himself but he has no idea where his cellphone is and they won’t tell him how to reach the CCU on the crappy hospital phone because ‘they’re much too busy up there to be answering calls all day’.

 

“I can see that this is going to be an interesting week,” she tells him, not sounding entirely enthusiastic about it.

 

**

 

Danny’s surprised at how tired out he gets just from talking. Duke and Chin come by to get his statement from the incident and by the time he finishes a half-hour later, he’s exhausted. Kono and Lou come by later to visit, but he doesn’t last more than fifteen minutes before they’re smiling knowingly and nudging each other to slip out the door. When Rachel brings Grace by after school, he manages to stick it out for a whole hour, but by the end of it he feels wrung out and depleted. And every time someone walks in the door, it seems like they’re carrying cards, or flowers, or stuffed animals, or balloons. It’s weird. The Governor stops by with an obscenely large floral display.

 

“How’re you doing, Danny?” he asks, a softness there that Danny doesn’t ever remember seeing or hearing before. It makes him uneasy.

 

“Uh, okay, I guess,” he shifts in his bed and tries to sit up straighter. “Got a little fever, so they won’t let me go up and see Steve.”

 

“From what I understand, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Danny answers tightly, not really wanting to be reminded.

 

They make small talk for a few minutes, then the Governor tells Danny good-naturedly that they’re going to need to have a conversation about the fact that Danny landed a plane on a public beach. He shakes Danny’s hand sincerely before leaving.

 

Just a few minutes later, one of the duty nurses comes in, smiling broadly. “I thought you’d want to know, Commander McGarrett woke up a little while ago.”

 

Danny turns sharply to look at her where she’s fiddling with the machine next to his bed. “He’s awake?”

 

“Well, not anymore apparently. He’s back asleep. But he did regain consciousness and Dr. Sato seems very pleased with that.”

 

“Oh, thank God,” Danny says, dropping his head back on the pillow, relief washing over him.

 

“Get some rest. If your fever keeps going down, maybe they’ll let you go up and see him tomorrow.”

 

A little while later, Danny starts getting calls from local media outlets. Now that Steve’s survival is looking pretty good, the Governor’s office had put out a press release with some of the details of what had happened a few days ago. Not surprisingly, the local media wants to interview him – ‘cop saves partner twice in one day’. Thinking about Steve and what he’d been through and how he almost died kind of makes him sick to his stomach, and he has no interest in glorifying the whole situation.   Danny doesn’t return any of the calls.

 

** Post-op, Day 4: **

“Jesus, _another_ one?” Danny asks with surprise as an aide brings another bunch of flowers into his room. “I think you’ve got the wrong room.”

 

“You have a lot of friends, apparently,” the young woman says with a smile.

 

“No, I don’t,” Danny answers automatically, looking at the card from the bouquet that she’s handed him. “I don’t even know who this is. Who is this and why would they be sending me flowers?”

 

“You’re a hero, Lieutenant.”

 

“What hero? What are you talking about?”

 

“There was a big story on the news last night. How you saved your partner by landing that plane on the beach, and then gave him half of your liver. People want to show their admiration.”

 

“Huh,” Danny says, looking down at the card again, then over to the table and windowsill that are overflowing with flower arrangements and plants, at least a dozen balloons float above. There are so many get-well cards that they’re just piled in a stack now, because there’s no room to stand them all up.

 

“I think it’s nice,” the young woman grins and starts to move things around to try to make room for the new arrangement.    

 

Danny doesn’t answer, just stares for a minute at the collection of well-wishes in his room. He doesn’t think of himself as a hero. Steve had been hurt and on the plane, Danny only did what he had to do to try to save _all_ their lives (not that he really cared about that shithead drug dealer). The whole liver thing, well, what the hell else was he going to do when someone he loved was dying and it was within his power to save him? Danny’s gut twists uncomfortably and he stops his train of thought, not wanting to think about Steve dying.

 

“Hey, you, uh, you delivered any plants and cards up to Steve McGarrett’s room? How’s he doing?” He can’t believe how hard it is to get answers in this place. He’s still got a slight fever so they won’t let him go up to Steve’s room and see for himself.

 

“I don’t know. Commander McGarrett has received a lot of cards and flowers and things, but we’re holding them because they don’t allow them in the CCU. The rooms are too small and full of equipment and they don’t want to risk things getting in the way in case there’s an emergency.”

 

Danny tries not to think about what exactly kind of emergency she’s talking about.

 

****

** Post-Op, Day 5: **

Finally – _finally_ – Danny’s fever is gone and they let him venture up to CCU to see Steve. The doctors have started to say more optimistic things. Against all odds, Steve is gaining strength quickly and has been having longer and longer periods of consciousness. He’s been upgraded from ‘critical’ to ‘stable’ much soon than they ever expected. Danny must have one hell of liver.

 

But his timing is apparently crap because though they told him Steve was awake for quite a while earlier, Danny’s been sitting in a chair by the side of his bed for the last half hour waiting for him wake up. He’s starting to think he’s maybe going to need to go back to his room soon to rest when he notices the man’s eyelids start to flicker.

 

“Steve?” Danny asks anxiously, standing up and leaning over to try to get closer.

 

Steve’s eyes flicker open for a split second and then close again.

 

“Danno,” Steve whispers, a tiny smile trying to rise before his face settles again.

 

“Hey,” Danny says, grasping Steve’s hand. “How’re you doing?”

 

“Doc said you gave me your liver,” Steve mumbles, clearly still half out of it.

 

“Well, only half, technically. I mean, I love you, buddy, but not quite _that_ much.”

 

The smile ghosts across Steve’s lips again. “Love you, too, Danno.”

 

“Yeah. You love me so much, how ‘bout you open your eyes for me so I know you’re really alive in there,” Danny cajoles.

 

Danny can see the effort it takes for Steve to comply, but he’s flooded with relief when he finally catches sight of the familiar blue eyes.

 

Steve squeezes Danny’s hand lightly and Danny looks down for a second at where they’re connected then back up.

 

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, his eyes shining and betraying an expression that looks equal parts gratitude and regret. “But, you shouldn’t have done that. Y’ might need it… the kids…” his voice trails off.

 

A hard lump forms in Danny’s throat and he has to swallow hard to get it to recede. “Did the doctors not tell you the part where you were gonna die any minute if you didn’t get a new liver?” Danny asks, his voice shaking a little. Seriously, if Steve doesn’t shut up, Danny is going to lose it right here in the Critical Care Unit. “Of course I should have done it, you idiot. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat, so shut up already.” Danny sniffs and has to turn away for a second, blinking his eyes clear.    

 

When he looks back, Steve is smiling and his eyes slide shut again. “Love you, Danno…” he says, then slips into back into sleep.

 

"Yeah, I love you, too," Danny sighs.

 

 

** Post-Op, Day 6: **

Danny makes his way to CCU twice to check on Steve, but both times he does, the man remains stubbornly asleep. Talk about crap timing.

 

When he gets back the second time, Kono is there with Grace. Honestly, he’s had so many visitors over the last few days that it’s wearing him out a bit, but he’ll never complain about seeing his kids. He’s anxious to see Charlie but Rachel has been reluctant to send the boy so far. Danny doesn’t really blame her.

 

“Look at this, Dad!” Grace says, holding up what looks like a giant, poster-sized card.

 

“What is that?” Danny squints at it.

 

“It’s a get-well card from a school on Maui. All the kids signed it,” she says, opening the ‘card’ and showing him the scores of multi-colored signatures on the inside.

 

“Why?” Danny asks, mystified.

 

“You’re too modest, Danny,” Kono laughs. “What you did was amazing.”

 

Not really knowing what to say to that, Danny ignores her and reaches his arm out toward Grace as he settles back in his bed. “Come ‘ere, you.” Grace sits down on the side of the bed and puts a protective hand on his shoulder.

 

“So, the doc says they think I can go home in a couple of days,” he tells them.

 

Grace smiles broadly. “Really?”

 

“Yep,” Danny nods and hugs Grace, and he and Kono share a look over her shoulder – one tied up in concern about when Steve will even get out of CCU, let alone go home.

 

****

** Post-Op, Day 7: **

Danny’s frustrated because he hasn’t been able to go up to check on Steve. Much of his day has been spent with consultations with doctors and therapists – physical, occupational, and mental health – in preparation for his release the next day. Recovery for a donor – rather than a donee – is much more straight forward, but there are still considerations and a lot of information for him to process.

 

He’s asked pretty much every medical personnel who’s walked into his room for an update on Steve but he hasn’t gotten much in the way of answers. They’ve taken to telling him, “He’s fine as far as we know,” as soon as they walk into Danny’s room, preempting the question they know he’s going to ask.

 

Late in the afternoon, two nurses come in together and start to unlock the wheels on his bed and mess around with his IV stand and monitoring equipment. “We’ve got a surprise for you, Lieutenant Williams,” one of them says with a sly grin.

 

“What? What surprise? Where are you taking me?” he whips his head around as they start to wheel his bed, with him in it, out of the room. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

 

“We need the private room. We’re moving you to a shared room.”

 

“That’s your surprise? You’re taking me out of my room that I have all to myself and making me live with someone else like a college dorm or something? How is that a surprise? Surprises are usually good things. You know, nice things. Like, surprise, happy birthday,” he rambles as they wheel him along.

 

“Surprise. Happy birthday,” she says with a glint in her eye, looking past Danny into the room they’re now pushing him into.

 

Danny turns his head and his breath catches. Because Steve is lying the other bed in the room. It looks like he’s asleep, but when they start maneuvering Danny’s bed into place, his eyes open and he turns his head and grins at Danny. Danny huffs because he knows that look. The man is drugged to the gills.

 

“Heeeeyyyy, Danno!” he says cheerfully.

 

Danny can’t stop his own grin from exploding on his face. He wouldn’t want to. “Hey, buddy,” he says, the words almost catching in his throat. “How’re you doin’?”

 

“Great! I’m doing great, Danno,” he says, just as another nurse comes in to take Steve’s blood pressure.

 

“We thought it might speed your recovery along a little if you were able to see your friend,” she murmurs quietly and winks at him.

 

Speed his recovery. Besides that tiny fever he’d had (which _had_ been nothing) Danny’s recovery has gone very smoothly, so he appreciates the hell out of the fact that the staff has moved the two of them together. He’s scheduled to go home tomorrow and he’s been stressed out and pissed off that he’s not really been able to see Steve awake beyond that first time. And once he gets home, he’ll be mostly stuck there since he’s not supposed to drive. So at least he’ll get to spend a little time assessing the situation and Steve’s condition for himself before he’s discharged.

 

“Commander McGarrett was just stepped down out of CCU and onto the general surgical ward an hour ago,” she adds, smiling and checking the machine next to his bed to make sure nothing got messed up in the transfer. “An aide will bring the rest of your things from your other room soon, they’re a little backed up now,” she tells him.

 

As she turns to leave, Danny grabs her arm. “Listen. Thank you,” he says quietly but utterly sincere. “I really appreciate it.”

 

She smiles. “We’re going to miss you around here, Lieutenant,” she tells him. “Even if you are grumpy all the time.”

 

**

 

They barely get a moment to greet each other before visitors start streaming into their shared room. No one has been able to see Steve while he’s been in CCU, so they’re all clearly anxious to see for themselves how he is. Their concern and then relief is written all over their faces. Danny doesn’t think this day could have gotten any better until Dog walks in with Grace _and_ Charlie in tow and he beams. Charlie clambers up onto his bed and Danny suppresses a grimace as the boy accidently knocks his ribs. He wraps a loose arm around his son while Grace walks around to the other side and hops up onto his bed, as well.

 

All of the cards and flowers and balloons that have apparently been sent to the hospital for Steve over the last week are finally brought in, en masse, and Jerry reads them aloud for everyone. Danny watches Steve closely and he can tell there’s something off - his cheerfulness seems forced. Danny isn’t sure if he’s just tired, or in pain or if there’s something else going on, but he senses Steve’s relief when everyone finally files out of the room. It’s hard to say good-bye to his kids again, but honestly, he’s starting flag as well. And he’s anxious to finally get a minute alone to assess how Steve’s really doing. Whosever idea it was to move Danny and Steve together to ‘help with his recovery’ is an angel.

 

**

 

“Whosever idea it was to have me share a room with you to help with my recovery is… a complete idiot,” Danny mutters when Steve is being an ass about the damned television, snatching the remote and insisting on putting on a soap opera.

 

“You realize you didn’t _have_ to give me your liver,” Steve slurs with a stupid smirk on his face, clearly numb on painkillers and worn out from all the visitors.

 

Still, Danny blinks in surprise. _What?_ All he said is that he wanted to watch the ballgame – what the hell does that have to do with Danny giving him part of his liver? Is Steve actually picking a fight here? Now? Danny knows he should let it go, should give Steve a pass, but unfortunately, Danny’s own current state of exhaustion means he doesn’t have the energy to hold back his reflexive come-back. “Where were you gonna get one, Steve? The supermarket?” he asks sarcastically.   “Of course I had to give you my liver, what are you talking about?” As if Danny would ever make any other decision than to do whatever the hell Steve needed him to do to save his life.

 

“I’m gonna have to listen to this for the rest of my life, aren’t I? I’m gonna have to listen to this forever… this… this this speech about the selfless sacrifice you made on my behalf.”

 

As far as Danny was concerned, when Steve had mumbled out his thanks to Danny in the CCU – which was completely unnecessary - that was the end of it. He never viewed what he did as a sacrifice; he certainly didn’t do it for Steve’s gratitude. So he can’t stop the hurt from bubbling up, and then taking a right turn into and anger. “No, no, no, ‘cause Steve I am not like you, okay? I give… without the expectation of thanks. Alright? Do me a favor please, try to take care of the thing. I had it for 39 years it means a lot to me, okay – you’ll probably wreck it in two weeks.”

 

“How ‘m I gonna wreck it?” Steve scoffs.

 

“I don’t know. You like getting shot at, what do I know?” There’s probably more truth to that than Steve would ever admit.

 

“I like getting shot? You think I chose to get shot? How ‘bout this, if I hadn’t taken those bullets for you it’d be my liver in your body. How ‘bout that?”

 

Well now, that’s just not true. “Hold on. You didn’t save my life, Steve. You were on the wrong side of the plane when we got shot at. Okay, that’s A. B – there is no chance that if the roles were reversed here you’d be giving me piece of your liver, okay? No chance.”

 

Danny has no idea why he says that. He knows it’s not true – knows Steve would probably give Danny his damned heart if he needed one. Danny’s self-aware enough to know he’s just being an asshole now for the sake of being an asshole. Something in Steve just brings it out of him sometimes.

 

“How can you say that? You sayin’ I’m not generous?”

 

Well, that’s another issue altogether. “No, you’re not generous! I never even see you take your wallet outta your pocket. There’s no way you’re giving me one of your vital organs.”

 

“Oooy. If this liver comes with your negative attitude I swear to god I’m gonna cut it out myself.”

 

“He’s crazy. He’s crazy,” Danny says to no one in particular. “It’s not like I’m asking you for a thank you Steve, I’m not saying give me a speech or a gift or anything like that, you, you, you’re just… you’re a big, giant ingrate. You know? My son, who I gave bone marrow to, he was more grateful than you are. But come to think of it he’s four years old and he’s more emotionally mature than you so it makes complete and total sense.”

 

“He’s your kid. I promise you Danny, you give him time, he’s gonna grow up to hate you just as much as I do.”

 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Danny says, whipping the curtain between them closed.

 

“You do realize the curtain doesn’t block sound, right?”

 

Danny doesn’t respond.

 

“I know you can still hear me,” Steve presses.

 

Yeah, he can still hear Steve. But Danny’s too pissed to answer. He doesn’t know why that particular barb got under his skin so much. Well, that’s not entirely true. He knows why; his kids are his weakness – the thing he worries about most and his greatest insecurity - and Steve knows it. He also knows that Steve didn’t really mean that. They’ve had their ups and downs in the last six years, but Danny doesn’t think for a second that Steve meant what he’d just said. The man is drugged to oblivion and exhausted and his mouth ran faster than his brain, is all.  But it still hurts.

 

Danny’s not surprised, really. It’s their pattern. It’s what they do. They hurt each other for no apparent reason. Danny sighs to himself and backpedals on his resolve to tell Steve the truth about his feelings. There’s no way a relationship could ever work between the two of them; he was an idiot to ever even consider it. As much as Danny loves Steve, they’re like oil and water and it’s inevitable that they’re going to clash. He just thought they might be able to go a little longer than an hour before starting in on each other, given their recent brush with death.

 

Danny closes his eyes and starts to drift off to the low murmuring of the soap opera. Could be maybe Steve was right about that after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw - the brief kiss Danny gave Steve while he was unconscious is not the 'first kiss' referenced in the tags. In case you were wondering.


	3. a time to gather stones together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve hears a tape, gets a clue, and everything is fixed. Voila!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to markinmi1 for making the generous donation that resulted in this fic! I'm sorry it took so long, but thank you for your great patience. And thank you also for your always kind support of my fic - it was a pleasure to write a story for you. : ) 
> 
> Thanks to KippyVee for the beta work and cheerleading on this chapter!

 

Steve wakes slow and groggily the next morning. He can tell he’s a little more clear-headed than he was the day before when they finally moved him from CCU to the regular post-surgery unit. But he’s still pretty doped up, and he’s been floating on a prolonged high the likes of which he’s never experienced. For the first time in his life, though, he doesn’t really mind. He’s been hurt before, but god almighty, nothing compares to having a couple of bullets bounce around inside you, and literally having a vital organ torn to shreds and then removed and replaced by a new one.

 

Steve hears footsteps and then voices on the other side of the curtain.  He doesn't really remember who's over there until someone speaks.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stick around for a few more days, Lieutenant Williams?” he hears a nurse tease Danny from behind the curtain.

 

“No, nope, I am ready to go. How soon can I get outta here?” Danny asks, but Steve thinks the lightness in his voice sounds forced.

 

“As soon as we finish the paperwork and someone comes to take you home. No driving,” the nurse admonishes him and then Steve hears her leave the room.

 

Steve reaches over and tugs the curtain back, barely able to complete the motion through the sharp discomfort of his stretching wounds. “You’re leaving today? Already?” Steve tries not to grimace at the pain in his abdomen.

 

“Yep. Did my part. I’m good to go,” Danny says as he turns himself to sit on the side of his bed with his back to Steve, then starts putting on the pants that the nurse must have left there for him.

 

Steve thinks that Danny should probably have someone help him with that, but knows if he suggests it, it probably wouldn’t be well-received.

 

There’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of Steve’s stomach, but he’s not sure why. The previous day, when they’d moved Steve and Danny into this room together, is mostly a blur. He remembers emotions more than events. He recalls his intense relief at seeing Danny again. He remembers a room full of people smiling, happy to see him, but with concern in their eyes. He remembers that made him feel uncomfortable, but that he’d tried to put on a happy front while inside he’d become more and more agitated. He has a vague recollection of his unease spilling over at Danny as they did their usual back and forth bickering with each other after everyone left. And then he must have fallen asleep, because the rest of the night is a blank.

 

He’s hit with a sadness and sense of desperation at the thought of Danny leaving; of being alone in a hospital room again. And he doesn’t like the way Danny hasn’t looked at him at all this morning; wonders if Danny is having regrets about donating half his liver to Steve.

 

Once Danny slides the pants up his legs, he slips off the bed and tugs them the rest of the way up. Steve watches as Danny sheds his hospital gown. From behind, Danny looks thinner than he should. Steve frowns. Danny’s moving slowly as he turns part-way around to grab his shirt and Steve can see the large white bandage covering the vertical incision where they cut Danny open to take what they needed for Steve. He can also see a lot of fading bruises on Danny’s torso and Steve puzzles over that, wondering if it’s a result of the surgery. He’s seen his own chest is mostly black and blue and purple and fading to yellow and green along the edges now, but he’d been shot multiple times; Danny hadn’t.

 

“Hey, Danno,” Steve says softly, and Danny stops and finally turns toward Steve as he buttons his shirt, looking at him for the first time that day. He thinks recalls a stumbling thanks he’d managed to give Danny in the CCU, but it seems like the situation calls for more. “Listen, I know… I know you feel like you had to give me half your liver, but, sincerely… thank you.” The words seem completely inadequate for the magnitude of what Danny did for Steve, but he has no idea how to express how much gratitude he feels toward his friend. “I don’t… I don’t really know how I can ever repay--”

 

“Stop! Just stop, okay?” Danny interrupts, giving him a peculiar look and Steve gets the feeling he’s missing something. “Jesus, this guy,” Danny mutters, looking down at his buttons and shaking his head, then staring back up at him. “You gotta make up your mind…” Danny starts again and stops, and Steve furrows his brow in confusion – not sure what Danny means. A moment later Danny pushes out an exasperated-sounding sigh. “You know what, just… take care of it, okay? Don’t do anything crazy that’s gonna wreck it or anything, alright? That’s how you can repay me. By taking care of yourself and not getting yourself killed.”

 

Steve can’t pick apart the expression he sees on Danny’s face, still feeling like he’s missing a piece of the puzzle. But he wants that look of Danny’s to go away, so he smiles and answers. “I’ll try, Danno. I promise.”

 

**

 

Twenty minutes after Danny’s released, Steve groans when he picks up the remote control for the television and pieces of the previous evening’s conversation suddenly come back to him. “Shit,” he mutters, and casts around looking for the cell phone they had just returned to him after he’d been released from CCU. He finds it tucked under the sheet next to his left hip and immediately scrolls to Danny’s contact.

 

“What, you miss me already?” Danny quips as a greeting, but it doesn’t really sound like Danny’s happy to hear from him.

 

“Are you home?” Steve asks, even though he knows he wouldn't be.

 

“No, not yet. Lou’s driving like my grandmother. I never thought I’d actually miss having you behind the wheel.”

 

Steve hears Lou grumble something but can’t make out the words.

 

He hears Danny murmur something back to Lou, then, “What’s up?” to Steve.

 

“So, I, uh. I just remembered that I was kind of an asshole last night.”

 

There’s a slight pause and then Danny says, “Oh. What part of the night was that, Steven? You’re an asshole most of the time, so it’s hard for me to pinpoint.”

 

Steve’s pretty sure he can hear a little bit of humor in Danny’s words and he relaxes fractionally. “You know, the part where I said Charlie was gonna grow up to hate you. You know I didn’t mean that, right?”

 

“Do I?”

 

“Yeah, you do, and you know how you know that?”

 

“No, how do I know that, Steven?”

 

“Because what I said was that he’d grow up to hate you as much as I do.”

 

“Yes. I remember that. That was very nice.”

 

“Yeah, but, Danno, you know I don’t hate you, ergo, Charlie will not grow up to hate you either.”

 

There’s a beat before Danny answers. “Ergo?”

 

“Yeah, ergo. Someone said that to me once. I kinda liked it,” Steve says with small grin that Danny can’t see, but Steve’s pretty sure he can hear.

 

“So, that’s what you’re going with?” Danny asks.

 

Steve smirks into the phone. “That’s what I got, yeah.”

 

“You’re saying I should forgive you for the cruel thing you said about me and my son because the analogy you used doesn’t hold up? So your remark is moot?”

 

“That’s what I’m saying, yes,” Steve confirms, grinning fully now. “It’s moot.”

 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then a muffled conversation between Danny and Lou, something about the H-2.

 

“Okay,” Danny says when he finally comes back on the line.  

 

“Okay?” Steve asks hopefully.

 

“Yeah. Okay. You’re right. I don’t really believe you think that. But it was still a pretty dick thing to say, just so you know.”

 

“I know,” Steve admits. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Whatever. Just don’t do it again.”

 

“Love you, buddy,” Steve says fondly.

 

“Yeah, I love you, too,” Danny grumbles.

 

Steve smiles at Danny’s feigned gruffness and rings off, feeling a bit of a weight has lifted from his shoulders. There’s still something there, though – a small niggling thing at the back of his mind, making him feel like he’s still forgetting something. But before he can puzzle it out, he’s fallen back asleep.

 

**

 

“McGarrett calling already?” Lou asks from the driver’s seat. “You two love birds just can’t stand to be apart for ten minutes, can you?” he teases Danny.

 

Danny snorts but doesn’t say anything as he settles back and closes his eyes. Steve’s apology was a relief, and he appreciates that he made the gesture, but Danny’s looking forward to having some distance from Steve again. All the emotional turmoil of the last eight days is catching up with him: the fear, concern, and worry about Steve; his ridiculous bedside declaration of love; then a week of intending to tell Steve what he’s been feeling, only to have Steve metaphorically hit him over the head with how unrealistic that course of action would be. Danny’s exhausted and he needs some time to reset his emotions and readjust his life plan.

 

**

 

As Steve gets stronger, his days in the hospital are filled with what they call “Transplant University”; everything he needs to know about living as an organ recipient. It’s a lot to take in but Steve puts on his game face and powers through it like he has every other challenge in his life. Part of Transplant U is daily physical therapy and occupational therapy, and mandatory meetings with a therapist. At first Steve puts up his standard walls, denies any issues, tries avoidance. Unfortunately, this particular therapist is having none of it. He’s worked with dozens of transplant patients and knows exactly what Steve’s touchpoints are – they’re not so different from any other organ recipient. And there is no way to avoid the man; Steve is stuck in the hospital with no escape. He appears daily and knows precisely the things to say and questions to ask until he finally wears Steve down.

 

They talk about the realities of Steve’s potential physical limitations, post-transplant, though Steve continues to assert that he won’t let it slow him down. His therapist acknowledges Steve’s determination – praises it even, since many organ recipients begin to see themselves as weak and limited, and that can become a self-fulfilling prophecy – but he reminds Steve that not everything can always be solved by mind-over-matter.

 

He pushes Steve to talk more about how he feels about the fact that he came so close to dying; how he feels about being a transplant recipient; and how he feels about the fact that the organ came from someone he is close to. Steve is predictably reticent to talk about his emotions at first, but by his third week in the hospital, the man has just plain worn him down. And, really, he finally has to admit to himself that just talking honestly is far easier and less emotionally taxing than trying to mentally strategize how to avoid telling the truth. Most surprisingly, he finds he feels better for it. For the first time in his life, Steve thinks he might actually see the utility of therapy; that having someone to help him sort and sift through his thoughts and emotions can actually be helpful.

 

So Steve starts to be honest. He tells his therapist that he is frankly awe-inspired about what Danny had done for him, but at the same time, not really surprised. Because he knows that he would never hesitate to do whatever it might take to save Danny, and vice versa. He tells his therapist how he feels guilty and worried that if one of Danny’s kids ever needs a liver transplant, Danny won’t be available to help them. The other man assures Steve that the odds of that happening are infinitesimally small, and to keep in mind that as siblings, Grace and Charlie have each other and their mother, who could also be potential donors should the need arise. That only makes Steve feel infinitesimally better.

 

Steve squirms when pushed to talk about it, but he finally admits that a small part of him resents the feeling of indebtedness he has toward Danny; how it makes him feel prickly and uncomfortable. It’s hard to be able to continue to see yourself as a lone wolf, responsible to no one but yourself, when you owe someone so much for your continued existence.    

 

Eventually, reluctantly, Steve admits that he’s scared. About what all this means for his future.

 

These are all normal emotions, the therapist assures him, and they work on alternative ways of viewing things, and how Steve might communicate some of these emotions to the people closest to him, if he ever gets to the point that he feels like he wants to. He doesn’t push Steve to discuss it with his family and friends, just helps him recognize what his tangle of emotions really is, that it’s okay to be confused or feel conflicted, and then gives him tools to try to help process his new reality.

 

By the time he goes home after three-and-a-half weeks in the hospital, he’s got a firm understanding of what his future physical limitations might (or might not) look like, how to ensure the longest possible viability of the liver Danny gave him, and how he feels about the whole thing. Whether he’ll ever admit that last part to anyone else or not is another question.

 

Mary had shown up with a finally-healthy Joanie - unannounced as usual – the day he was released from the hospital. She settles in and proceeds to do all the heavy lifting – literally and figuratively – taking care of both him and Joanie, while simultaneously making sure she also understands everything there is to know about liver transplants and how to live with them. He can’t say he particularly likes the idea of their role-reversal, but unfortunately, it’s not like he has much choice. And his therapist has helped him recognize that maybe he needs a little help, at least in the short term.

 

Mary cooks and does laundry and helps him get into a routine, making sure he understands all of the doctor’s instructions – which he does and always did and doesn’t need his little sister to explain to him. But he indulges her need to mother-hen him and tries to just enjoy her and Joanie’s company.

 

All of his friends – except Danny – stop by to visit. They must have set up a rotation or something because he always gets one visitor a day, but never more than that, as though they don’t want to wear him out or something. Once he realizes that’s what’s going on, he gets annoyed, and the sympathy he sees too often in their eyes makes him do things he shouldn’t be doing yet, just to show them that he’s fine. He’s listened to what the doctors said, he’s done his own research and he’s come to the conclusion that as soon as he’s done with this initial recovery, he can more or less lead a normal life, and that’s exactly what he intends to do. This is a minor setback; a bump in the road. It’s not the end of his life and it’s not the end of his career. He doesn’t need anyone’s sympathy.

 

What he does need is word about how Danny’s doing. They’ve all been visiting Danny, too, and everyone reports that he’s doing fine – recovering well and almost ready to go back to work at HPD.  

 

He’s impatient with his physical therapy; anxious to get back into fighting form. Mary watches him like a hawk while he does his exercises and harasses him to stop when it’s time to stop. She insists on reminding him that he’s not just recovering from a liver transplant, but from being shot three times, and all of that takes time.   He knows she’s right. Still, when she’s not in the room, Steve always pushes a little harder and longer; he may have Danny’s liver but he’s still Steve.

 

His sister and niece keep him busy for two weeks before they reluctantly pack up and leave, needing to get back to the mainland and their own lives. Steve has mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, he’s more than ready to have his house back to himself and start working things out on his own. On the other hand, their constant presence and chatter have kept him distracted, and Steve needs to keep his mind occupied because if he doesn’t he might start to think too long or hard about why the only sign of life he’s gotten from Danny since their phone conversation the day the man left the hospital is a two-word text Danny sends every morning.

                _< still alive?>_

 

Even though Steve hasn’t made any effort to see Danny, he always dutifully sends a response. The man did give him half his liver, after all; the least Steve can do is let him know it’s still in his body and Steve isn’t wrecking it. Sometimes it’s a thumbs-up emoji, sometimes it’s a selfie of him holding the day’s newspaper, sometimes he doesn’t want Danny to see the dark smudges under his eyes so it’s just the paper – date prominently visible. Sometimes he just sends back a single word.

                _< yep>_

 

Honestly, he isn’t sure why he’s hesitant to see his partner. No, not his partner; he keeps forgetting that. Regardless, he’s not sure where his reluctance comes from. He has a vague, uneasy feeling about Danny that he can’t quite pinpoint the source of. He doesn’t think it’s the issue of the transplant and the indebtedness he feels. He worked that through with his therapist pretty well and mostly what he feels now is gratitude. It’s more that he has a sense of having forgotten something and he feels like whatever it is, it’s important. Thinking about it makes him uneasy though, so, mostly, he doesn’t.

 

**

 

Within two days after Mary and Joanie leave, Steve’s bored. Almost out of his mind with boredom, actually. It will be nearly two more months before he can go back to work, and another three months of desk duty (yeah, right), so theoretically months on the sidelines. Just the prospect of that is terrifying; Steve has never been built for inaction. He can’t work, can’t swim, can’t lift things, can’t drive while he’s healing and taking the pain meds – and as much as he hates to admit it, he still kind of needs the pain meds, at least for now - so he can’t go anywhere or do much of anything.

 

It's the boredom that makes him ask for the files from the case they’d been working when he was shot. Well, mostly boredom, and curiosity, and wanting to make sure that everything is all put to bed on this one. Because this one involved Nahele and so it was personal, and Steve sort of feels obligated to get the whole story and make sure nothing was missed. That day after Danny had been released from the hospital, Steve realized that he had no idea what had happened with the case, so when Chin had stopped by later, Steve had asked him about it. Chin gave him the run-down about what transpired after he got shot: Danny landing the plane with help from the radio tower; getting answers from Dae Won about who his supplier was; taking down those assholes at the airport. Chin had kept if fairly brief, not that Steve’s muddled brain was able to really hold onto many of the details at that point, anyway. But now that he’s more clear-headed, and he has some mental energy to focus on it (and he has nothing else to do), he wants all the details. He hesitates to call Lou or Chin or Kono since 5-0 is down two people, so he calls Duke, who sends Pua over with a flash drive.  

 

As soon as Pua leaves, he grabs his laptop and slips the flash drive in, then scrolls through the files. There are a couple dozen: booking reports; interrogation transcripts; mugshots; all the standard police report contents. His eyes skim over them until they come to a folder entitled ‘Media’. His finger hesitates a moment. It’s not what he had been intending looking for and not likely to hold the details of the case he’s been wanting to get at, but something makes him click on it anyway.

 

Inside are several more files, some of local news reports and one labeled ‘EMS dash cam’. Steve sucks in a deep breath, not sure he wants to see video of himself unconscious and bleeding. He decides that one can wait for now. There’s another file labeled ‘Radio Tower Audio’. Steve clicks on that one, curious as to how they managed to talk Danny down. He sets the laptop on the coffee table and grins to himself as he settles back into the couch to listen, thinking he can just imagine how Danny must have handled _that_ situation.

 

He's wrong. It’s not at all what he could have imagined and there’s not a thing funny about the utter fear he hears in Danny’s voice. The two of them have been in some tight spots in the past, and the only time he’s heard Danny sound anything like this was when Danny had a bomb set to detonate if he moved, and still, this is ten times worse.

_"Uh, control, I got a, I got a… an alarm and I don’t know what it is.”_

Steve’s gut tightens when he hears the stress in Danny’s voice and he finds himself anxiously sitting forward.

_“Check your gauges, whaddaya see?”_

_“What do I see, I see a lotta gauges!”_

_“What’s your air speed?”_

_“Ah, ah, air, air speed is… 155.”_

_“What about altitude?”_

_“Altitude’s 500 but falling.”_

_“Fuel?”_

_“Fuel is no good. Uuuh, needle’s right at zero.”_

Steve pauses the audio and sits back, stunned. They’d had plenty of fuel when Steve was flying so the only explanation he can come up with is that the plane’s fuel tank had been hit. Jesus, they were lucky they weren’t all blown up immediately. He leans forward and resumes the tape.

_“Alright… you’re running out of fuel. We’ll get you down as soon as possible.”_

_“Yeah, well that’s fine, fine with me.”_

_“The Coast Guard has been notified, stand by for emergency ditch procedures.”_

_“What do you mean by ditch?”_

_“Lieutenant, based on your current altitude, air speed and available fuel, you’re never gonna make the runway.”_

Oh god. Steve tenses and runs a hand down his face, pausing it over his open mouth, riveted by what he’s hearing on the recording. How did he not know any of this? How did no one tell him that Danny had made a water landing? How they hell had he survived the plane going down in the water when he was unconscious and barely alive?

 

_“Control we just… lost both of our engines.”_

Steve’s heart sinks. He knows that, obviously, Danny survived – they both did - but he still finds that he’s terrified for his partner’s life and he frowns at the resignation he hears in Danny’s voice. Danny must have believed they were going to die in that moment and just the idea of it – of Danny having that fear of never seeing his kids again – makes Steve’s heart pound and his stomach feel queasy.

_“Alright Lieutenant, beneath the dash is a large red handle. Pull it to feather your props. Don’t try to fight gravity.”_

_“Large red handle. Don’t fight gravity. Copy, got that.”_

_“Okay, Lieutenant. Next to the radio controls are your landing gear settings. There’s a switch labeled ‘up water’. Flip it. The rear flaps one more peg to_

_the landing position.”_

_“Okay, done.”_

_“Now you’re gonna have to… put her down in the water. Adjust your course to 175 degrees and let yourself glide.”_

_“Ahhh … Uhhh.”_

Steve tenses further, knowing how difficult it must have been for Danny to grapple with everything going on in that moment. The idiot in the back of the plane with a gun on him, running out of fuel, not being able to make the runway, Steve bleeding next to him. He doesn’t like the image it all conjures up in his mind.

_“Alright, uh, control that’s, that’s not gonna work, okay? My, my partner, he’s unconscious. If I put this thing down in the water, I’m not gonna be able to get him_

_outta the plane, he’s gonna drown.”_

Jesus, Danny, don’t be an idiot…

_“You don’t have a choice, Lieutenant.”_

_“Yeah, yeah yeah, I, I, I, I gotta choice, I’m, I’m, I’m gonna put this thing down on the beach, okay.”_

What?! No, don’t be a _fucking_ idiot!

_“Lieutenant, we strongly advise against that. I understand your concern for your friend. Consider yourself. Your best chance of survival… is a water landing.”_

_“Listen, I’m not gonna put it down in the water, I’m puttin’ this thing down on the beach, okay? Clear the beach I’m coming in.”_

 

The audio abruptly cuts off and Steve sits back, dumbfounded, staring at the silent laptop, trying to process what he’d just heard. That stupid son of a bitch! How could Danny have risked himself that way? Before Steve can get himself any more worked up, it occurs to him that Danny might not have actually done that; he might have ditched the plane in the ocean the way he should have.

 

Steve sits up and quickly backs out of the audio-recording file. His hand is shaking a little with the rush of nervous adrenalin he’s experiencing and it takes him a lot longer than usual to get the cursor on the laptop touchpad to hover over the file of the EMT dash-cam video and he swears as the curser skips across the screen. When he finally gets there, he clicks on it without hesitation.

 

The video is blurry with the motion of the ambulance screaming down the street, weaving in and out of traffic. A siren wails but he can still hear dispatch rerouting the ambulance to the beach. A few minutes later it comes to a screeching halt in the parking lot and the camera feed stills, revealing a throng of people running frantically across the sand. A moment later, the small Cessna comes into view, low on the horizon, moving in fast. Jesus, did Danny actually land that plane on the beach? Steve is almost tempted to laugh at the fact that he will have this to hold over Danny’s head for the rest of their lives if he ever complains about Steve’s crazy and reckless behavior again.

 

Unfortunately, the dash cam angle doesn’t show the landing, only the blur of the small plane flying by and then out of sight of the still-shot. Steve backs out of that file in frustration and looks at the others in the Media folder. There are files labeled ‘KITV’ and ‘KOHN’. He hits KITV first, because it’s the first on the list. The video footage is taken from a helicopter, about a quarter-mile out from the beach, hovering low over the water. It tracks the Cessna as it coasts toward the beach. From this angle, it looks like, miraculously, the beach was cleared before Danny did indeed drop the plane onto it. As soon as the plane is on the ground, the helicopter takes off and moves to hover above the crash-landing site. Steve can see the commotion from above and people rush toward the plane, but the angle isn’t great and he can see from the video that KOHN had a crew on the ground. Steve backs out of the KITV feed and clicks on the other station’s file.

 

This video is taken from ground level, and provides a frankly terrifying view of the Cessna wobbling toward the beach. The landing is rough – they must have been bounced around in there pretty good – and a second later, the feed goes blurry as the cameraman is running toward the plane to get a better shot.  

 

When it finally stills again, he can see Danny opening the door of the plane as he’s yelling at people to come and help Steve, who is still alive. It’s slightly surreal to watch – his team and EMTs hauling Steve out of the small plane, blood saturating the front of his clothing. But his eyes move quickly past that and focus on Danny, who is standing to the side, forgotten in the urgency of Steve’s injuries. He’s got blood running down the side of his face and one arm wrapped protectively around his torso. Steve recalls the small line of sutures on Danny’s cheekbone that he’d never asked about and the bruises he’d seen on Danny when he’d been changing out of his hospital gown into regular clothes. Shit. Danny must have busted some ribs in the landing, but he’d never said a word.

 

Steve sits for a long time interfiling the four media files together in his head, ordering what he’d heard and seen, and trying to make sense of what Danny had done. After a few minutes, he gets up and grabs a bottle of water from the kitchen before going out to sit in the chair by the water and think some more. It takes him a good long time to figure out that the primary emotion he’s feeling about what he’s just seen and heard is anger. Pissed that Danny would take such a stupid risk when Steve was as good as dead anyway. What an _idiot._   

 

Simmering under that anger is a mess of other emotions and confusion. He has the strong sense of déjà vu and he can’t quite grasp the memory that feels like it wants to materialize. It’s the same feeling he’s been having for weeks – like there’s something he’s forgetting - and though he’s been working hard to suppress it because it’s been making him somehow uncomfortable, he can hear his therapist’s voice in his head telling him he needs to acknowledge his feelings, if only to himself. He growls in frustration knowing the man was right and, still trying to make sense of everything, he goes back into the house and grabs his laptop, then returns to his chair outside.

 

Before he opens any of the files again, he stops to think about what he remembers from that day. His memories of everything they’d done with the case leading up to taking off in the airplane are pretty clear in his mind. He remembers roping Danny into coming along on his undercover op – using what he knows is Danny’s weakness for family to manipulate him into helping. Steve feels a twinge of guilt, knowing that Danny had been trying to put distance between them, but that he had been using every excuse he could come up with to drag Danny along on 5-0 cases. He knows it was a dick move, but he’d been selfish because he hated not having Danny with him. Worse, though, if Steve hadn’t dragged Danny into this case, any number of things could have and probably would have gone differently and Danny wouldn’t be out half a liver right now.

 

Steve shakes those thoughts off and for the first time, focuses on what else he can really remember from that day. He remembers looking over and seeing the helicopter and the guy with the automatic rifle and his panic as the bullets started flying. After that, he just has little pieces and snatches of things. He does remember Danny making a mayday call and then Danny and Dae Won pointing their guns at each other after Danny identified himself as a cop. He remembers being pissed at Danny for being so stupid and not just shooting the asshole in the face.

 

The feeling of déjà vu is strong, so Steve clicks on the audio recording from the tower again to see if it will jog his memory any further. The first time through he had been listening raptly to Danny. This time, though, as he listens, he tries to put himself in the cabin of the plane and _remember._

_“Mayday request, do you copy?”_ the airport tower asked _._

Steve’s fuzzy memory of hearing Danny and Dae Won arguing comes into sharper focus and he remembers thinking that he was in bad shape. He hadn’t lost consciousness, but he knew he was in shock and feeling more or less disconnected from his body.

 

“Stay awake,” he remembers Danny telling him after he made the mayday request, and thinking that was almost funny because Steve had absolutely no control over anything his body was doing at the moment.

_“Switch to Channel 17 for immediate assist,”_ the tower squawked again.

 

Memories start to flood back, crashing over him like waves, and Steve pauses the tape to concentrate on trying to collect and order them somehow.

“…Steve…” He remembers Danny’s voice, tense and terrified as he jostled him - nudged his arm - but Steve hadn’t been able to move. An image of Danny and Dae Won arguing some more comes to him and Danny saying something like, “You wanna shoot me, then shoot me…” And even though he knows Dae Won hadn’t shot Danny, a shiver of cold fear runs through Steve at the memory.

 

“I’m dyin’, Danny,” he remembers saying. He’d never said that before; never believed it before. But in that plane, in that moment, he believed that it was finally the end for him. He can taste the tang of blood in his mouth and remembers been truly afraid – for his life, and for Danny’s. And along with that sense memory of fear comes another stronger memory - of all the regrets he’d had – about Danny and about all the things that he’d always wanted to say to him, but had never had the courage to.

 

Steve’s wary of deathbed proclamations – a small part of him never trusting them. But the memory of the _need_ to tell Danny things overwhelms him as he sits on the beach, and his breath catches in his throat the way the words did when tried to talk on the plane.

 

But now he knows that facing his own mortality gave him clarity of thought in that moment, and he had finally understood the true extent of his feelings for Danny. He remembers understanding for the first time that what he felt for Danny was love; not the ohana kind of love, but the deep, burning kind of love that you feel for someone who you cannot live without. He remembers thinking that he’d been a complete idiot for way too long. He remembers wondering how he had never realized it before.

 

He remembers thinking he was going to die and having a desperate need not to until he’d had the chance to tell Danny the truth.

“I’m gonna die, Danny,” he’d said again.

 

He remembers that he started to say more; he opened his mouth to say, “I love you, Danny. Not like we always say. But in every way. And we need to stop this dancing around and get to it already.” That’s what he’d intended to say, but he could not get the words out. For the first time in life, his body failed him when he really needed it, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

 

He remembers a fathomless sense of regret.

 

Steve taps the computer and starts the audio up again, listening to it all the way through to the end. It doesn’t change this time through: the engines still fail; Danny still ignores the tower and lands the plane on the beach; Steve still finds that his primary emotion listening to the audio is anger – though truthfully, it may be edging closer to outright fury.

 

As soon as the recording ends, Steve snaps the laptop closed, goes into the house, grabs his car keys and is out the door.

 

**

 

Danny opens the door and can feel his face morph into surprise. “Steve. What’re you doing here?” he asks, craning his neck to look around Steve to where his truck is now parked in the driveway. “Did you drive yourself here?” he asks, frustrated but not terribly surprised that Steve can’t manage to obey doctors’ orders for even a couple days now that Mary is gone.

 

“We need to talk,” Steve says, pushing past him into the house.

 

“Come in,” Danny says sarcastically. “I asked you a question. Did you drive here?”

 

“Yes,” Steve tells him dismissively. “But I haven’t taken any pain medicine this morning so it’s fine. I wasn’t driving under the influence.”

 

Danny sighs. “You know that’s not the only reason you’re not supposed to drive.” Their incision sites, and especially Steve’s internal injuries, mean cars and seatbelts are especially dangerous for a few more weeks.

 

“Look, Danny, that’s not important,” Steve tells him, impatience coloring his words.

 

“You promised me you weren’t gonna wreck my liver.”

 

Steve ignores him. “You landed that plane on the beach,” he says, accusation strong in his words.

 

Danny looked at him quizzically. “Uh… yeah?” he says, not sure where Steve’s going with this.

 

Steve shoves an angry finger in Danny’s face. “They told you to ditch in the water and you put it down on the beach instead.”

 

“I say again… yeah?” Danny’s very confused now.

 

“Why would you do that?” Steve demands angrily.

 

Danny blinks. “Because you would have drowned if I had landed in the water,” he answers matter-of-factly.

 

“Right. But you could have been killed!”

 

“I could have been killed landing in the water, Steve,” Danny points out. “What the hell is your problem? Where is this coming from?”

 

“I listened to the tape!” Steve snaps back crossly.

 

“What _tape?_ ” Danny asks, mystified.

 

“The mayday conversation with the airport tower,” Steve tells him, exasperated.

 

“Oh,” Danny says, squirming a little now. He hasn’t heard the tape himself, but he can imagine what it must have sounded like.

 

“Yeah, _OH!_ ” Steve says, as though having won a point.

 

Memories of the utter terror he’d felt on the plane that day come rushing back and Danny feels his face flush. “I was, uh… I may have been a little stressed,” Danny admits. “I honestly don’t really remember much about it. Sorry if I… well. It was probably not my finest hour.”

 

Steve gapes at him. “Danny, what are you talking about?”

 

Danny pauses and looks at Steve. “I have no idea. What are _you_ talking about?” It suddenly feels like the two of them are having separate conversations.

 

Steve gives him a look and then seems to growl in frustration, and before Danny knows it, Steve has pushed him back against the wall and crashed their mouths together.

 

Danny opens to it immediately, tangling his tongue with Steve’s because, _hell yeah!_   He hears Steve groan and feels him deepen the kiss, practically pushing his tongue down Danny's throat, and his own whimper of surprise and pleasure slips out.  But after a few moments, Danny’s bigger brain wrestles control from his smaller brain and he pushes Steve back.

 

“Wait, wait, wait!” he pants, already breathless. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

“I’m kissing you!”

 

“Oh, is that what that was, ‘cause it seemed like you were trying to suck the other half of my liver outta my body,” Danny quips.

 

Steve’s mouth quirks up in a half-smile. “Danny, if I was going to try to suck the other half of your liver outta you, I can think of someplace closer to your vital organs that would probably work better.”

 

The image of Steve on his knees in front of him flashes in Danny’s head and he swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara. “Uh…” he says. Danny closes his eyes and shakes away the image before blood can start diverting to uncomfortable places. A second later he feels Steve shift and he opens his eyes to see the man moving in to kiss him again. “No, stop!” he barks with a hand to Steve’s chest. “You cannot just come in here and yell at me and then start kissing me. You wanna explain to me what the hell is going on?”

 

Steve opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Danny puts his hand up in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Wait! Just to clarify, by _explain,_ I mean use your words. And by words, I _do_ mean plural – _wordsss_ – which will be combined with other words to form a sentence, which will then be juxtaposed with other sentences to form a paragraph, which will hopefully provide some sort of coherent explanation.”

 

By the time he finishes, Steve is giving him a half-hearted glare. “Okay, look. I was listening to that tape from air traffic control--”

 

Danny’s tempted to ask him why but this is Steve, so of course it would make sense that the control freak would have to know every single thing that happened while he was out of it.

 

“—and listening to it jogged my memory from the plane.”

 

“You were unconscious,” Danny points out.

 

“For most of it, I guess, yeah. But not for all of it. For a while in the beginning I was still awake and I knew I was going to die…”

 

Danny can’t stop the pained noise that escapes.

 

“… I _thought_ I was going to die,” Steve amends, “and I told you I was going to die. But I was… I was trying to tell you I love you, because facing death that way made me have certain realizations. I love you, Danny, and I didn’t want to die without you knowing that.”

 

“Jesus,” Danny mutters, running a hand over his face. He honestly cannot believe they are having this conversation. He was over it – or at least he was trying to _get_ over it. He was done pining after Steve. He’d given the man his liver and he’d spent the last month at home forcing himself to accept that nothing would ever happen between the two of them. And now here’s Steve, pushing his way into Danny’s house and life again and declaring his undying love. How is this his life?

 

Steve reaches out and clutches Danny’s arms. “I love you, Danny. I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a few years. I just couldn’t, or didn’t want to, admit it to myself.”

 

“And now you can?” Danny asks dubiously, one eyebrow raised, because he’s still trying to resist.

 

“The plane… it was all…” Steve stops in frustration and lets go of Danny. “Life’s too short to ignore stuff like this.”

 

Danny considers for a second. “Steve, we have been _at each other’s throats_ for the last few years. This last year especially,” Danny points out. “This doesn’t make sense,” Danny tells him, because Steve can have all the death-bed revelations he wants, but it doesn’t stop the fact that for whatever reason, they just can’t get along.

 

“Yeah, I know, but, I get it now.”

 

“Get what? What do you get?”

 

“I get that all the arguing, the fighting, the bitching… it was just, you know…”

 

“No, no I don’t know, Steve.” Danny looks at him, confused, because he’d sure as hell like to know what it was himself.

 

Steve rolls his eyes and makes an exasperated face. “You know… like… unresolved sexual tension,” he says, bending in low and speaking quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear.

 

Danny looks around himself, trying to find whoever it is Steve’s working to keep this from, then turns back to Steve. “Unresolved sexual tension? _That’s_ what you think all of this has been?” Panic starts to rise in Danny at the thought of what Steve’s saying.

 

“Yeah,” Steve says, smiling and confident.

 

Danny looks at him with widening eyes. “You’re a mad man, you know that? You’re crazy. He’s fucking bat-shit insane,” Danny says to no one in particular, words spilling out of his mouth as a distraction from the creeping fear that Steve’s right.

 

“I’m not crazy, Danny.”

 

Danny jabs his finger in Steve’s face. “ _You,_ my friend, are 100% certifiable!” Danny tries desperately.

 

“You know I’m right.”

 

“No… no I do not know you are right, and you know how I know that? Because you are _wrong!_ ” His panic is obvious now.

 

“Not wrong, Danny,” Steve answers with a knowing smirk. Smug bastard.

 

If he thought trying to land a plane he didn’t know how to fly was terrifying, it doesn’t even seem to compare to the terror he’s feeling at the idea of undoing all the hard work he’s done in the last month. “What? What? You think you can just deny what I’m saying and make it true?” He’s flailing and he knows it.

 

Steve shrugs. “Pretty much, yeah.”

 

Danny stares at Steve for a minute. “You are such a prick,” he finally says, feeling slightly bitter, but mostly resigned.

 

Steve laughs a little. “I’m sorry, Danno. I know I have been, but, you know, you haven’t exactly been a bed of roses either. Except for the part where the roses have thorns – so maybe that is a sort of good analogy. What’s your excuse?”

 

Danny peers at Steve and then deflates, finding it impossible to hold onto his resistance in the face of what he knows is the truth. Oh, what the hell. Danny takes a deep breath. “Unrequited love?”

 

Steve shakes his head. “No, not unrequited. It was just… unrealized.” He bends in to kiss Danny again, all tongue, fast and wet, before pulling back. Danny tries to tell himself that he doesn’t chase Steve’s mouth as it moves away from him. “I love you, Danny. And you love me, too.”

 

Danny’s feeling a little dazed and he knows he’s kiss-flushed. Damn it. “Oh, I…” he has to stop and clear his throat. Double damn it. “I love you, too? And how do you come to that conclusion, might I ask?” he asks, because he’s never been good at letting go of a fight.

 

“Are you seriously gonna try to tell me that you don’t love me after the way you just kissed me? _Twice?_ ” Steve asks smugly.

 

“No, that… that was just me being caught by surprise,” Danny tries weakly.

 

Steve snorts. “Can you look me in the eye right now and tell me you don’t want this?”

 

Danny flicks his eyes away for a second and then back. “No, but,” Danny sighs and puts his hands on Steve’s chest, gently pushing him a half-step back so that at least he can’t feel the heat radiating off the man. “Steve, we can barely stand to be around each other for five minutes without going at each other, and you want to, what? Take our relationship _further?_ Get in deeper with each other?   Are you crazy?”

 

“No, listen. I think… I think I’ve been such a jerk because I didn’t want to admit what I was really feeling. I mean, if we were fighting - if we weren’t getting along - I could push you away, I could deny how I felt…”

 

“You really think all this arguing, it was just three years of sexual tension?” Danny laughs without much humor.

 

“More or less.”

 

“And you think we can just start a relationship and it will all just… go away?”

 

“More or less,” Steve repeats, sounding confident, then he steps close and kisses Danny again, this time slow and sweet and Danny’s whole body starts to tingle.

 

After a moment Danny reluctantly pulls back and sighs. “This doesn’t really solve anything you know.”

 

“Sure it does,” Steve answers.

 

“No, it doesn’t, Steve. Look, between the two of us, we have more issues than a lifetime subscription to the New Yorker.”

 

Steve just stares at him, feigning ignorance.

 

“See, like that, right there,” Danny starts. “You know exactly what I’m saying. You know what the New Yorker is. You’ve seen it at my house like, a billion times, but you _act_ like you don’t understand me or what I’m saying. _That’s_ an issue – one we have that’s a problem between us.” Danny flaps his hand between the two of them.

 

“We’ll be fine, Danny,” Steve says confidently, stepping back in close.

 

Danny pushes Steve away again. “I’m serious Steve. We have shit built up between us and kissing or… or… fucking--” Steve’s eyes go wide, “--is not going to make that all go away. If you want this. If you want to do this with me, we need therapy. Maybe separately and definitely together.”

 

“Yeah, okay, Danny,” Steve readily agrees.

 

Danny looks skeptical. “Really?”

 

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, really. I’m not good at it – I think we’ve established that. But I’ll do it. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I mean, if there’s one thing that’s become apparent to me, it’s that I pretty much suck at relationships. Almost as much as you do. So, I’m thinking that if we wanna make this work, we might actually need a little outside help.”

 

That was too easy. “I thought you didn’t believe in therapy,” Danny peers at him suspiciously.

 

“Yeah, well, I guess I changed my mind. I worked with the guy in the hospital on the whole transplant thing and I… I kind of get it now.”

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“Completely,” Steve says, moving in closer to Danny and then stopping with one eyebrow quirked as though asking for permission.

 

“Are you… Are you gonna kiss me again?” Danny asks, unable to stop his eyes from flicking between Steve’s eyes and his ridiculously appealing mouth.

 

“I was thinking about it, yeah,” Steve’s tongue flicks out, licking his lips as he moves fractionally closer. “And then maybe I’ll suck out the other half of that liver,” he mumbles against Danny’s mouth.

 

Danny shivers at Steve’s words and finally gives in, all of his blood rushing south. Oh, what the hell. “Well, I don’t think I have any more liver to spare,” Danny murmurs back, “but, you know, I’ve got two kidneys.”

 

Steve laughs out loud and Danny smiles into the kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks also to those of you who, when I posted the fic auction offer, said you didn't have the resources to compete in the bidding but that you would make a donation to a human-rights cause anyway. A number of people said that and it was so unexpected but genuinely appreciated - by me, and no doubt by the organizations you gave to. : )
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at teeelsie-posts.tumblr.com. Feel free to send messages or asks over there!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. And I do love to hear your thoughts, so pass them along if you're inclined. : )


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